


An Indescribable Shade of Blue

by horrorgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Betrayal, Dependency, Fear, Fear of Discovery, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Illnesses, M/M, References to Depression, References to Drugs, Second Chances, Self-Acceptance, Smut, Starting Over
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 17:32:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 59,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10576098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horrorgirl/pseuds/horrorgirl
Summary: Dean Winchester was a detective by day, part time bartender by night, tormented by painful secrets. He knew when he poured a drink for the blue eyed man at the end of the bar, his world would be forever changed. He just wasn't prepared for where life would take them.





	

Dean had learned to tune out the music a long time ago. Sometimes it felt like the bar owner didn’t bother to listen to the bands before he offered them a gig. He shook his head and smirked as he wiped off the bar, anticipating the rush of drunk patrons wanting a fresh drink when the band finally took an intermission. He saw the empty glass sitting at the end of the bar, it wasn’t until he got close enough to pick it up that he noticed the customer. 

“Can I get you a refill?” he called over the loud music.

“Please,” came the impatient, almost pained response.

“I take it you aren’t enjoying the show?” Dean grinned, pouring a fresh beer from the tap.

“I’m trying, but it’s not easy,” the man turned and looked at Dean before picking up the glass and tilting it to his lips. “Here,” he fished some cash out of his wallet. “No change. I’m guessing they don’t pay you enough to listen to this shit.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

Dean could barely make out the blue eyes in the dim light, but he knew that they were a shade he’d never seen before. “You’re sitting alone and obviously would rather be anywhere but here…”

“So why am I here?”

“Yeah.”

“A buddy from work is the drummer. I’ve been telling him for months that I’d come check them out. I figured I’d finally follow through, and now I am seriously regretting it. I have to stick around at least until intermission so that he knows I showed up. Hopefully that fulfills my friendly duties. I probably sound like a total asshole.”

“Not at all,” Dean grinned. “Just a very patient man. I learned to tune it all out a long time ago. I can usually tell how bad the band was by how well I’m tipped. Shitty music, shitty tips.”

“Expect a bad night.”

“I’m just hoping that someday we get some good music in here.”

“Ah, an optimist,” the man smiled at Dean. “Or a masochist. It’s got to be one or the other.”

“Maybe a little bit of both,” Dean laughed. “I’m only here a few nights a week. A way to make some extra cash. Unfortunately I’m here the few nights a week that they have live music.”

“Ah, so the masochistic bartender has a day job.”

“I do, I’m a cop. Actually, a detective.”

“A cop who tends bar. That’s either the beginning of a bad joke or the beginning of a bad novel.”

“You aren’t the first one to tell me that. Dean Winchester,” Dean reached his hand out.

“Cas Novak,” came the response followed by a firm handshake.

“So, you and the drum master up there, what kind of business are you in?”

“Head chef, he is my sous chef.”

“Really? Where at?”

“The Cliffs.”

“Ah, so you make food that guys like myself can’t afford to eat.”

“We’re considering adding a financing office in the lobby,” Cas smiled. 

“Well, you must be good at your job. I know guys on the force who take their wives there for anniversaries and birthdays and shit. Apparently just getting a table takes a week or two.”

“Job security,” Cas tilted the glass to his lips. “God, this music is so bad I almost want to fire him on principle alone. I won’t, I’m not that big of an asshole, but it’s going to be pretty hard to take him seriously after tonight.”

“So if you’re the head chef, who’s manning the kitchen tonight?”

“Believe it or not, they actually cut me loose and let me have a life a few nights a month. I just need to find a better way to spend them because this is not working. And that sounds like intermission. I should go make an appearance and throw some insincere compliments his way. It was nice talking to you. Take it easy.”

“Yeah, you too man.”

\-------------------------

Dean was sliding shots across the bar, shaking cocktails, and pouring beer from the tap. He was polite to the sloppy drunks, always hoping that they didn’t plan to get behind the wheel. He’d seen too much of that shit when he was still on patrol. The crowd was young and the tips weren’t great, but it was something. A little extra money and it got him out of the house. The crowd finally thinned out and he busied himself rinsing glasses to be sent back and run through the sanitizer after last call. He lined up the bottles on the shelves and wiped off the beer taps before he turned around and watched the band pick up their instruments again. He smiled at the few cocktail waitresses when they walked past or brought him an order. He finally threw the small towel over his shoulder and took a minute to listen to the music. That guy, the chef, had been right. It was terrible. He grabbed the stool that he kept behind the counter and pulled out the notebook that he carried around with him. He was tapping his pen against the clean sheet of paper when he noticed the glass at the end of the bar, and the body sitting next to it. He slid his notebook back in it’s spot under the cash register and dragged his stool to the end of the bar.

“Apparently I’m not the only masochist around here.” he smiled.

“Apparently not. I promised him that I’d let him buy me a beer when they finished their set. Like I said, I’m an asshole, but not that big of an asshole.”

“You driving?”

“No, I have a two beer limit if I’m driving. I mean, you know how cops are,” Cas grinned.

“They are dicks,” Dean smiled. “Well if you’ve got a ride home, then the next one is on the house. Consider it a pity beer.”

“You should come to the restaurant sometime. Bring the wife or girlfriend.”

“Well, besides the fact that it would probably take my entire weekly food budget for one meal, I don’t have a wife or a girlfriend to impress.”

“If you swing the other way, that works too. I don’t judge.”

“I don’t swing the other way,” Dean chuckled. “I’m determined to be a lifelong bachelor and piss my parents off by not giving them any grandchildren. I mean other than my little brother’s kids.”

“No wife, no girlfriend, no boyfriend, no kids. Do you at least have a cat or a hamster or something?”

“I have a dog.”

“Yeah, we don’t usually encourage people to bring their dogs to the restaurant. Well, if you want to surprise your parents with an overpriced dinner, give me a call ahead of time and I’ll get you hooked up.” Cas slid his card across the bar.

“You are a chef with business cards?”

“That’s left over from when I ran a catering business. My number is still the same.”

“Well, if you ever want a free beer, you know where to find me.”

“What if I need a crime solved?” Cas smiled.

“Well, there’s that too. They’re going to be doing last call as soon as they finish their set so I need to start cleaning up. It was nice talking to a fellow musical masochist.”

“Yeah, I won’t be doing this again. Again, take it easy.”

“You too.”

\-------------------------

Dean poured last call, cleaned up and restocked, split the tips with the cocktail waitresses, and grabbed his notebook and pen before he closed up and drove home. If he didn’t sit down and write when he got back to his small apartment, he could probably get three, maybe four hours of sleep. If he did open his notebook, he’d spend the entire day pumping himself full of caffeine and going blind on paperwork. Unless an active case came across his desk, then he’d be totally useless. He just hoped for a crime free night.

\-------------------------

“Well you look like roadkill that was hit more than once.”

“Thanks, Bobby. I’m feeling the love. Is there coffee?”

“You’re holding a cup of that fancy shit in your hand.”

“But it’s almost gone,” Dean grinned at the older man. 

“That second job is kicking your ass, kid.”

“I gotta do something to take care of the family.”

“You have to bartend so that you can feed that damn dog?”

“Hey, Balthazar deserves nothing but the best. Anything hit the desk this morning?” Dean sighed, pouring fresh black sludge into his cardboard cup and opened the refrigerator. “Hey, did that asshole Lefitte take the rest of my creamer?”

“Why don’t you drink it black like a real man?”

“Because I don’t need horrible black coffee to prove my manhood or virility. Now I’m tired and not in the best mood, so what do we have on our agenda?” He finally smiled when he wrapped his hand around his creamer and poured some into his cup, emitting a moan when he took the first sip.

“Who needs a girlfriend when coffee makes you that happy,” Bobby smirked. “We have a string of auto thefts.”

“Probaby kids just fucking around. Patrol boys can handle that.”

“Not when it’s organized. Same M.O., similar make and model.”

“Ugh,” Dean leaned against the counter and rubbed his forehead. “Chop shop?”

“Looks like a strong possibility. The file has been scanned and sent to you, paper copy is on my desk.”

“It’s the 21st fucking century Bobby. They’ve proven that computers are a more efficient way to store documents and so far haven’t been proven to cause Cancer.”

“Yeah, well this old man likes doing things his way.”

“And why did they partner me with somebody who is just like my father?”

“Because you pissed somebody off. Now let’s take a look at it.”

“Maybe they’re smuggling drugs too. Then we can pass it off to the DEA.”

“Your optimism is overwhelming. C’mon kid.”

\-------------------------

“Okay, so 14 thefts in the last three weeks. All japanese models, none more than five years old. Sounds like a chop shop,” Dean yawned. “You’d think in a city this size, they’d branch out and not do their dirty work within a 15 mile radius.”

“These guys are quick, but nobody ever accused ‘em of being smart.”

“So, we’ve got statements from the victims, a couple of witnesses, and a ‘snitch’ from a similar case a few years ago. I say we push papers today, compare it to similar crimes in the area, and start the legwork tomorrow.”

“Are you going to be able to stay awake long enough to sort through those files?”

“I’ll start with the pretty pictures and take it from there,” Dean grinned.

“Yeah, you do that. I’ll go tell the big dogs that my partner enthusiastically agreed to take this one,” Bobby smiled.

“Fuck you, Singer,” came the mumbled reply.

“I love you too, kid.”

\-------------------------

After ten grueling hours of barely paying attention, Dean finally made it home, dropped his bag carrying his laptop and paper files on the counter, and squatted down for the onslaught of wet doggie kisses. “Hey Balty,” he smiled, leaning back and scratching the golden lab behind the ears. “Okay, enough,” he chuckled and stood up. “If I take you for a quick walk and feed you, will you lay down so that I can relax? I can’t believe that I talk to a dog more than I talk to most humans.” He filled the food and water bowls, draped his jacket over the back of a chair and put Balty’s leash on. Dean was grateful that it was a short walk. He took off his shoes and hid them in the closet where the dog couldn’t get to them and make them a chew toy, a lesson he’d learned the hard way. He tossed his work clothes on the bed and put on track pants and a t-shirt. He picked up his notebook and started rifling through pages. It’s wasn’t exactly a diary, it wasn’t a collection of short stories, it wasn’t necessarily poetry. He had a way of writing everything down in a format that expressed his emotions at the time. When he saw beautiful things, they became poetry. When he saw interesting people, it became a possible backstory to their lives. When he saw something profound or heartbreaking, usually the truth was enough. He’d started in high school when his own bad decisions took him down ugly roads, it was his outlet. He’d continued during his time in police training, when he was a street cop wearing blue, and after his move to take the position as a detective. He had box after box of the same notebook, fairly thin with a black and white cardboard cover. He’d bought so many of them over the years that he kept a case of unused ones on the off chance they discontinued making them. His apartment wasn’t neat and orderly. His life certainly hadn’t been neat and orderly. But his words were, at least to him. Sometimes he wondered what would happen if he died, maybe in the line of duty, and his brother or his parents came across them and read them one by one in chronological order. He didn’t know if they’d be surprised, disgusted, or finally have a real understanding of who he was. He was a private person, he didn’t have many secrets, but he was never comfortable revealing the things and the way that he thought. Maybe that’s why his best friend was a dog. Balthazar didn’t ask questions. 

\-------------------------

He got Balty in the backseat of his car and drove to the coast. There wasn’t much in the way of water in the small town in Kansas where he grew up. The beaches in northern California where he’d gone through his police training were usually littered with trash or were too crowded. He couldn’t say that they had a many actual beaches in Seattle, but there was enough sand for him to run. 

He parked, got out of the car, put his earbuds in, and had a short conversation with Balty about manners in public. It was already evening, the sun would be setting soon and he almost wished that he’d brought a jacket, but he knew that the jog would form a sheen of sweat by the time he was finished. He hit shuffle on his playlist and started to run.

He was a little out of breath when he pulled his keys out of his pocket. He scratched the dog behind the ears and thanked him for only dropping a stick into his hand five or six times to be thrown, and got them both in the car.

\------------------------- 

He threw together a quick dinner and began to write. That last night at the bar became a back story, he tried to imagine where these people had come from and what had brought them to him, even it it was for just a moment. He smiled while he wrote, the bad music and dedicated co-worker were almost amusing enough that he didn’t need to add to the characterization.

\-------------------------

Dean hated the grocery store. It was tedious but necessary. He was staring mindlessly at a pile of apples, doing the math in his head, how many would go bad before he got around to eating them when he heard it.

“So a bartender walks into a grocery store. Okay, that doesn’t make a good first line for a joke or a novel.”

He turned around and smiled, those blue eyes were even brighter in the light. “A chef in the produce section might. They make you do your own shopping?”

“Make me? No. I have grunts to do that shit, but I’m a control freak so certain things I do myself. Produce, obviously. I do my job well, the restaurant stays successful, I have job security. it’s kind of a cycle. I may be good, but I can’t do much with wilted lettuce and mushy tomatoes.”

“I thought they brought that shit in trucks.”

“Oh fuck no, not on my watch. My name is associated with that restaurant and I’m not cooking with shit that’s been unloaded off of a truck by some punk kid. I’m an asshole, I make sure it’s all fresh.”

“Hence the high prices,” Dean smiled.

“That and the great food, and apparently some type of ambiance. I think there’s a mathematical equation that goes along with running a successful restaurant. The majority go under within the first year. It’s not an easy business to be in. But, I’m telling this to a cop/bartender, which makes my ramblings probably sound mundane,” Cas grinned.

“Being a cop is more boring than you’d think. It’s definitely not like the movies where there is a board covered with pictures and pins using string to tie suspects to locations, then the ‘ah ha’ moment where we figure out where our perp is and have a badass showdown. I generally sit in front of computer reading files. I try to stay awake during meetings. And, I drink a lot of coffee.”

“So no badass showdowns? At all?”

“Maybe a couple,” Dean chuckled. “My partner is pushing 60. I can’t see the guy chasing down a perp and catching him in a film worthy tackle. He’d be the guy huffing and puffing, calling it in while I run and climb fences.”

“See, that does sound like the movies. The last movie that I can think of that even remotely resembled my job was Ratatouille.” 

Dean laughed out loud.

“So you have seen it?”

“I have a five year old niece and a two year old nephew that live in So Cal. I’ve seen them all.”

“How many nights to you work at The Shoreline?”

“Wednesdays and Thursdays, you know, the nights when the local bands show up. They alternate me on Fridays and Saturdays when they have ‘real’ live music. For some reason they think that I have a social life.”

“I’d think with all of those tipsy girls and cocktail waitresses…”

“Yeah, learned the hard way that it’s not a good idea. Now most of them think that I’m a dick, and I’m okay with that,” Dean smiled.

“Alright, well maybe I’ll stop by some night a check out some more shitty music. Apparently my sous chef has another gig and I was stupid enough to tell him that they were pretty good.”

“The price you pay for being insincerely polite.”

“Truer words...well I need to get back to playing with the produce. I know I’ve said it before, but take it easy.”

“You too.”

Dean turned to watch him for a moment, the way he picked up fruits and vegetables. The way he touched them and smelled them prior making his decisions. He shook his head and smiled. He had to give the guy credit, he obviously took his job seriously.

He finished his shopping quickly and went back to his apartment. It was a Friday night that he didn’t have to work at the bar and he didn’t have to be at the station tomorrow unless they somehow miraculously caught a break in the case. They had patrol running the area, looking for more break ins. As far as he was concerned, he could sit around and be lazy until his shift tomorrow night. Saturday’s were crowded and crazy, but he walked away with good tips and a lot of phone number that he promptly tossed into a garbage can. He’d heard it his whole life, the green eyes, signature cocky grin, natural arrogance, he was a magnet and once upon a time he’d used it to his advantage every chance that he got. Age had slowed him down and he’d become a little pickier about who he went home with. He wasn’t a saint, he wasn’t celibate, but he chose carefully and never brought them back to his place. He put his groceries away and reached for the remote. He had a couple of movies on his DVR that he still hadn’t gotten to.

\-------------------------

Dean jogged along the water’s edge, throwing a stick for Balty when the dog pressed it against his hand. He checked his watch and had just enough time to get home and shower before his shift at the bar started. He wasn’t in the mood to sling drinks. He couldn’t remember ever actually being in the mood to do it, but it got him out of the house and filled his wallet a little. He got in the car and headed home.

\-------------------------

The tight jeans, t-shirt with sleeves short enough to show the muscle tone in his arms, the length perfect for those moments when he had to reach for something and that small strip of skin between his belt and the hem of the shirt was exposed, that was his bar uniform. He was arrogant in his own way. He knew what he saw in the mirror. He’d never really had a girl turn him down. He walked into the empty bar, hung his jacket up in the back, and started organizing things. The cocktail waitresses showed up not long after he did. One smiled at him, the two that he’d slept with ignored him completely. They didn’t appreciate his hit and run way of doing things after the bar closed. He watched the band setting up for a moment and went back to getting his bar ready, putting things where he wanted them. The doors opened and the Saturday night crowd started filing in.

\-------------------------

“What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this,” he laughed, leaning over the counter.

“Apparently my insincere accolades were taken seriously and I have no desire to replace my sous chef. He’s a good kid who works hard. They got a call to fill in for another band and he wants to impress the boss, I figured I could deal with it again. I do have a ride home and plan to drink until the music is at least tolerable.”

“That might take a lot of drinking. Let me know when you want to upgrade from beer,” Dean smiled, walking away to help other customers.

\-------------------------

“Your glass is empty, I’m guessing you want another?”

“I’m considering that upgrade you talked about. I think I’m going to start with some shots.”

“What’s your poison.”

“Right now? Cyanide, but I’ll take tequila.”

“Top shelf?”

“Whatever you have on hand.”

Dean smiled and set a shot down, picking up the empty beer glass.

“What do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house, man. You are seriously dedicated and you deserve it.”

“Thanks. So, I’m a little curious.”

“About?”

“Another mathematical equation.”

“Okay,” Dean laughed.

“Three cocktail waitresses, all hot. One is all smiles, two seem a little bitchy when they look over here.”

“Let’s just say that those two know me in ways that the other one doesn’t.”

“Okay, I hate to say it, but you must be doing something wrong if they’re that pissed off.”

Dean chuckled, “I’m pretty sure it was the getting dressed and quick goodbye with no follow up phone call that pissed them off.”

“You didn’t stop to think that pulling a one night stand with a co-worker was a bad idea?”

“Apparently not. Especially after the first time. Then they found out about each other and it turned into dramatic bullshit. So, I’m basically an asshole in their eyes and I’m fine with that. Sometimes I wonder if the other girl is looking for her shot to try and get a morning after call from Dean Winchester, but it’s not going to happen. I learned the hard way that being on this side of the bar isn’t the smartest way to pick up chicks. It was all fun and games in the beginning,” Dean grinned.

“So, chances are if I tried some cheesy pick up line, I’d get turned down by association alone?”

“There’s a good chance. They see us talking, you’re probably already on the asshole list. So no wife or girlfriend of your own?”

“Nope, no boyfriend either. I don’t even own a dog. It’s just me, a job that consumes my life, and my condo that I’m paying way too much for. Now I sound like the depressed guy who needs a drink.”

“You’ve listened to this music twice this week, by choice. I think I’d be a little depressed.”

\-------------------------

Dean took care of customers and kept the bar clean, but always ended up talking to Cas when he had time. The guy didn’t take himself too seriously and he made Dean laugh. 

\-------------------------

Dean was again dealing with the onslaught of drink orders during intermission, but he wondered if Cas would leave this time. He set another shot glass down when he saw him take the stool next to the bar.

“Seriously, it’s like you know me,” Cas smiled.

“Nah, I just feel your pain. Only I feel it three nights a week.”

“You really should stop by the restaurant sometime, let me repay the favor.”

“Are you hitting on me,” Dean grinned.

“You’re seriously not my type. Your boobs aren’t big enough.”

“You’ve been checking out my boobs?” Dean laughed.

“More like seeing them as a reminder that I need to start going to the gym again. So the tight jeans, perfectly fit t-shirt, are you slutting yourself for tips?”

Dean laughed. “Probably a little. I hate to say it, but people are fucking shallow and I bring in more tips that the big hairy guy who covers most of the other shifts. I’m getting old and I figure if I’ve got it…”

“Hey, I’d do the same thing. But seriously, you should do something nice for your parents and let a chef hook you up with a dinner that you can’t afford.”

“As much as I’d love to, it would cost me more to fly them here from Kansas than it would to pay full price for a meal.”

“So stop by for lunch.”

“Do you even serve lunch?”

“No,” Cas chuckled. “But I think I could come up with something. Free shots can get you a free meal in this town.”

“I still think you’re asking me out,” Dean smiled.

“Whatever it takes to help you sleep at night,” Cas smiled at him. “If lunch isn’t your thing, you can always stop by for brunch and rub elbows with a bunch of elitist pricks who overcompensate by driving expensive cars. You do look like a mimosa kind of guy.”

“Then I must be wearing the uniform wrong. Here, let me give you my number.” Dean grabbed a cocktail napkin and a pen. “Now I know how all of those girls feel when they do this and shove it in my pocket.”

“Hey, no shoving necessary. Just hand it over and I’ll neatly fold it and put it in my own pocket.”

“Your loss,” Dean grinned.

\-------------------------

They caught a small break in the case and it was time to hit the pavement. Bobby was gruff and sometimes backwards in his way of thinking, but people seemed to trust him like they would their eccentric uncle. Dean was good looking, charming, and smart. Men were usually intimidated, but after he flashed a grin or a slight wink, the women were ready to talk. They got a few names, but they were street names. They would have to compare them to the Gang Unit database to see if any matched up. Other than that, they came up dry. 

\-------------------------

“Hey Bobby, I’m going to bail for a little while. I’ve got lunch plans.”

“Lunch plans?”

“Yeah, lunch plans. You know, sit down and have a meal with a friend.”

“I’ve known you for six years, you don’t have friends other than that damn dog.”

“Okay, you’re right. I have an appointment for a prostate exam. I might be a couple of hours.”

“A couple of hours?”

“Colonoscopy?”

“Get the fuck out of here, kid.”

“Always with the sweet talk, Bobby. I’ll be back.”

\-------------------------

“Hi, I’m detective Dean Winchester with the Seattle PD Organized Crime Unit, I need to speak to Cas Novak if it isn’t too much trouble,” Dean held back a smile as he pulled out his badge. The hostess looked terrified when she walked away and came back quickly with Cas behind her. “Mr. Novak?”

“You are such a dick. Calm down Rachel, I know this guy, he’s just fucking with me. At least I hope he’s fucking with me,” Cas smiled, looking at Dean.

“Okay, yes I am. This is a real badge, I am a real cop, what I just did is probably illegal, but we are not investigating anyone here...that I know of. I’m sorry.”

“Follow me, asshole.”

“Again, I really am sorry.” Dean reached out and squeezed the poor girl’s shoulder. He followed Cas through the dining room, impressed by the furniture and paintings. The real linens and fireplace in the center. “Okay, this is ambience.”

“And you haven’t even tasted the food. After that shit you pulled, I’m making you sit at the staff table.”

“Staff table?”

“Yeah, they like to hide us in a corner behind a wall when we eat. It’s kind of like locking your dog in a room when you have company over.”

“When do you open?”

“In a couple of hours. I thought I’d be nice and feed you lunch, but…”

“Hey, you have to admit that it was a little funny.”

“Okay, it was a little funny, but that poor girl spooks easy and now rumors with start about Chef Novak having some shady criminal past.”

“So play the dangerous card. Maybe your staff will listen and you’ll get more chicks.”

“Huh, didn’t look at it like that,” Cas shrugged, gesturing at a very normal looking table away from the others. “So, what do you want? We don’t serve lunch during the week, just brunch on the weekends, but I’ll whip you up something. Unless you say burger. Then you will be banned for life.”

“Would ‘sandwich’ get me eighty sixed?”

“No, I can pull off a sandwich. What do you want on it?”

“Surprise me, just no tomatoes.”

“Okay, but no bitching if you don’t like what you get. I’ll be right back.”

Dean watched him walk away and pulled his notebook out of his bag, digging for a pen. He was still writing when Cas set two plates down. He closed the book and shoved it back in his bag quickly.

“Work shit?”

“Just shit. So what did you bring me?”

“Taste it.”

“That’s cryptic, and a little nerve wracking.”

“You haven’t poisoned any of my drinks yet, why would I fuck up your lunch.”

“Good point,” Dean shrugged, picking up the huge sandwich. “Holy shit, this is amazing,” he mumbled, his mouth full.

“Fancy deli meats, fancy cheeses, fresh bread baked in house, and handmade by the head chef. It better be fucking amazing,” Cas smiled, picking up his own sandwich.

“And to think, I almost didn’t come.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t like most people. Which would probably explain why I don’t have a social life.”

“Did we just become best friends?” Cas grinned.

“Well, I do give you free drinks and you did make me lunch.”

“Wow, it almost sounds like we’re dating.”

“Then I should probably tell you that I don’t put out after the first date,” Dean smiled.

“Give me my sandwich back.”

“Fuck you. You would have to tear this thing from my cold dead hands.”

\-------------------------

“How was the prostate exam?”

“Strangely satisfying. Did we get any hits from the gang unit database?”

“Yeah, a few. We’re supposed to meet in about 20 minutes to figure out if this qualifies as Organized Crime or Gang Enforcement. I’m guessing both so we may end up working with a couple of the gang guys.”

“Seriously?” Dean rolled his eyes. “Nice enough guys, but the hard ass for the sake of being a hard ass shit gets really old.”

“When did you realize that being a cop isn’t that fun?”

“While I was still doing patrol in Northern California.”

“Okay then, let’s get our shit together and get in the conference room.”

\-------------------------

“Investigate further to verify that this is a ring? It’s obviously a fucking ring. They are making money by organized and illegal means, which makes it ours.”

“With gang ties which possibly makes it theirs. At least we get to divide and conquer. They’ve dealt with some of these assholes and may be able to flush them out. We just need to go in and basically check the books. Look over the operation and see if it qualifies as RICO. You need to learn how to play nice with others, Dean.”

“Shit, you used my first name. I’m getting the ‘dad talk’ aren’t I?” Dean smiled.

“I’m starting to wonder who I pissed off to get partnered with you.”

“I heard your polite and respectful tone and requested it.”

“You are an asshole.”

“I’ll add you to the list of people who think to, Bobby.”

“How many of them are women.”

“Now that’s none of your damn business. Let’s go meet with the thug huggers and figure out how we’re going to divide and conquer this case.”

\-------------------------

“You’re not even breaking a sweat and I can barely breathe over here.” 

Dean turned his head and laughed at Cas’s red face, “I do this at least four times a week. You said that you wanted to start working out more. When was the last time you jogged?”

“Last week, when I got out of my car and realized that the liquor store was getting ready to close.”

“I’m guessing that was a sprint and not a jog.”

“True. And how in the hell do you do this while throwing that damn stick for your dog?”

“Years of practice. Balty and I have an understanding. He comes with me to keep me company and I throw a stick and let him play in the water.”

“And then your car smells like wet dog.”

“I didn’t say that it was a foolproof plan. Okay, we’ve done two miles, you good?”

“You could have asked me that about a a mile and a half ago,” Cas bent over with his hands on his shaking knees, panting.

“You’ll get used to it,” Dean smiled, patting him on the shoulder.

“Used to it?” Cas called to his retreating back. “You mean I’m supposed to do this again?”

“Remember, you were the one who said you wanted to start working out,” Dean called over his shoulder.

Cas jogged begrudgingly to catch up to him, “So the shoulders, the chest, what I’m guessing is close to a six pack…”

“All weights, this was just cardio and some leg work.”

“Shit, I’m going to have to join a gym.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Dean laughed, getting the dog settled in the backseat of his car.

“I am if I’m going to hang out with you and try to compete.”

“Compete? Worried that we’d go to the bar and you’d end up with my throw aways?”

“Do you always objectify women like that?”

“No, not unless I’m talking to another guy about girls we’ve never met. If you’re looking for the love of your life, I am definitely not competition. If you are looking to get laid, I wish you luck.”

“Fuck, where is the closest gym?”

“There’s one at my apartment complex. It’s not great, but it has what I need. You’re welcome to come work out with me whenever. I can’t guarantee that you’ll end up looking like this,” Dean grinned, holding his arms out. “But we can try.”

“You are such a dick. Do you want to go grab a beer?”

“As long as it’s anywhere other than The Shoreline.”

\-------------------------

“So, you grew up in Kansas, went through officer training in Northern California, and ended up here.”

“That about sums it up. I wanted out of Kansas and there was a good program open in San Fran. Took a job on patrol in Oakland, but had to walk away after a few years, and I ended up here in the Organized Crime Unit.”

“Organized crime? In Seattle?”

“It’s everywhere, man. You wouldn’t believe it. But it’s not like the books and movies, it isn’t all flashy italians and shit. If a group forms in order to commit crimes with the intention of financial gain, that’s organized crime. Or at least that’s the easiest way to put it.”

“Working on anything now?”

“Yeah, but I can’t talk about it. And no, this isn’t some ‘if I tell you I’d have to kill you’ joke, I really can’t talk about it. It’s not that interesting anyway. What about you? Did you grow up around here?”

“Nope, East Coast born and bred. Went to culinary school in Boston. Stuck around and worked there for a couple of years. I thought the big money would be in New York or LA. I had no desire to go to New York so I went to LA. It didn’t take long to figure out that unless you know a guy who blows a guy you really can’t get a foot in the door. I just kept moving further and further north until I got this gig.”

“Wow, our lives are almost interesting enough to write about. Notice that I said almost. So, what do you do with your rare time off?”

“Lately? Sit in dive bars and listen to bad music or run on the beach with a cop and his dog,” Cas smiled.

“Hey, it’s better than running from the cop and his dog.”

“Okay, very true. Maybe that’s what you could do to motivate me, set your dog loose on me.”

“Balty?” Dean laughed. “You’d have to be holding his favorite stick or a raw steak for him to come after you. He’s a total wuss. It took months for me to convince him that my bed is my bed and that we do not share it.”

“You don’t want to snuggle up with your dog?” Cas chuckled.

“Uh, not the snuggling type. Me, not the dog. I don’t do the post bang cuddle or morning after awkward thing very well. In fact, I avoid it at all costs.”

“Made even worse when you can’t remember their name.”

“Yeah, been there,” Dean smiled, taking a drink of his beer. “So, thanks for lunch the other day, man. I tried to make a sandwich at home yesterday. I couldn’t do it. The poor thing was so pathetic.”

“So I’ve forever ruined you for sandwiches?” Cas smiled.

“Pretty much. But I’ve forever ruined you for casual jogs on the beach.”

“That was casual? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

\-------------------------

“So, obvious larceny and possible RICO, but gang is going to go in there for the take down and we’ll just sort through the paperwork and figure out where the money changed hands?”

“That’s what they tell me,” Bobby scowled.

“And they want to do this?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Dean groaned. “By tomorrow you mean…”

“Roughly 2:00am. They want to catch them while they’re hot. You might as well head home and get some sleep before we do this thing.”

\-------------------------

Dean and Bobby walked through the shop, stepping over handcuffed bodies spread out on the concrete. They made their way to the makeshift office and started boxing up paperwork, handwritten notes, receipts, all things that they knew they would spend hours poring over before it was passed off to the DA. 

They had lunch brought in, then dinner while they sat in an empty interrogation room and went through the boxes, setting aside anything incriminating that they could pass off and then wash their hands of the case entirely. Dean was just happy that this one was clean. Everybody was able to walk away.

He took a hot shower and spent hours writing furiously in his notebook. He finally crawled into bed and fell asleep.

\-------------------------

Dean was antsy. He had to work at the bar that night, but after 12 hour of sleep he was still full of adrenaline from the bust. He jogged on the beach, but even five miles didn’t really take the edge off. He paced around his apartment before finally breaking down and picking up his phone.

_“Hey, got plans?”_

It took almost a half hour to get a response.

_“If you count being elbows deep in brunch clean up, then yeah. Why? What’s up?”_

He took a deep breath and looked at the clock. He didn’t need to be at the bar for a few more hours to set up and he was trying to think of a way to kill time.

_“Sorry, spaced off the brunch thing. I’ll catch you another time.”_

He took his car to get washed and detailed and organized his apartment until it was time to jump in the shower and get ready. It was Saturday night, the night when he could bring in the tips so he grabbed his perfect jeans and t-shirt and headed to the bathroom.

He was always clean shaven for work, but because of this case he hadn’t shaved in a few days. He decided to leave the scruff and grabbed his jacket, bent down to scratch Balty behind the ears, and closed his apartment door behind him.

\-------------------------

Maybe it was because he was still on edge, maybe it was because it had started raining outside, but the bar seemed more crowded than usual and one of the cocktail waitresses eventually had to come help him tend bar. He was just glad that it was one that he hadn’t slept with. He was in the middle of setting up four tickets when he felt his phone go off.

_“What does a guy have to do to get a beer around here?”_

He smiled and shoved his phone in his pocket, finishing the drink orders. He looked down the bar and saw the familiar outline in the same spot. “How was brunch?”

“Mimosa’s and eggs benedict for the wealthy? Uninteresting, but pays the bills. We serve the exact same thing every weekend, it gets old.”

Dean looked up at the clock, it was barely 10:00. “You’re here early. I thought the restaurant was open until 9:00.”

“It is, and I can always just leave and let my crew clean up the kitchen, but that goes back to my whole control freak issue. We had a private party book the place until 8:00. The owners charge a shit ton for that type of thing, and I get a cut of that shit ton. I guessing it’s a way of thanking me for not going bat shit crazy. Anyway, we were done and out of there by just after 9:00. You know, it’s damn near impossible to understand any type of feeling through texts, but I felt bad earlier. I wondered if something was up.”

“Not really. We wrapped up our case. Well, for the most part. We might get called to testify but that comes with the territory. There’s just this huge adrenaline rush when you finally tie up the loose ends and nobody gets hurt. I was bored and bouncing off the walls. It’s probably lucky for you that you were busy,” Dean smiled. “Beer?”

“Yeah, sure. Did you try jogging?”

“Five miles, barely took the edge off,” Dean said, setting the glass on the bar.

“Five fucking miles? Seriously? How do you do that?”

“Uh, throw in my ear buds and put one foot in front of the other until I get bored.”

“Bored? Don’t you get, I don’t know, tired?”

“Not usually.”

“Impressive stamina,” Cas grinned.

“You aren’t the first person to tell me that,” Dean chuckled.

“What about the cocktail waitresses?”

“They weren’t the first to tell me either. So, are you here to nurse a drink, or do you want me to pull some top shelf tequila for you?”

“I didn’t drive, so I guess we’ll see where the night takes me. But, it looks like you’ve got an inexperienced bartender with her hands full down there. You may want to go help that hot damsel in distress.”

“Yeah, I probably should.”

“Wait.”

Dean turned around and saw Cas’s smile. “Is that one of the ones you fucked?”

“Uh no, which is why she’s willing to help me at the bar.”

“I still think you’re doing something wrong.”

“And I think you’re an asshole,” Dean called over his shoulder as he walked away.

\-------------------------

“So, you solve your case and then come here, where you can’t drink on the job.”

“Yeah, they pretty much frown on that,” Dean smiled.

“So the only time you get to relax with a drink is a beer with friends, or at home with your dog.”

“Sounds about right, but Balty isn’t much of a drinker so I pathetically drink alone.”

“You need to get drunk.”

“Hey, I am not disagreeing with you. However, I am at work at a bar. I guess I can grab a bottle and take it home, but again, Balty isn’t any fun to drink with.”

“Well, grab a bottle and give me a ride home when this shit hole closes up. You can celebrate successfully solving your case and crash on my couch.”

“I...uh..I don’t know...”

“I’m not putting you on the spot, it’s only awkward if you let it be.”

“No, I know. Like I said before, I don’t really have a social life. If I leave here and go somewhere other than my place it’s to get laid, and I haven’t even done that recently.”

“You have this friendly but shy thing going on,” Cas smiled.

“Most people refer to that as standoffish.”

“No, I don’t think you qualify as standoffish. You just hold back. It’s hard to explain. But, I’m not just offering to be nice. I think that you deserve a good drunk. As your new best friend it is my duty to ensure that it’s not a pathetic lonely drunk. We’ve already established that drinking with your dog doesn’t count. You helped me get through multiple nights of horrible music, I owe it to you. Plus, I want to see what kind of drunk you are. I can tell you aren’t the emotional drunk. Possibly an ‘I love you man’ guy. More likely a deep thinker. Call it an experiment on my part.”

“Oh, well that makes me feel so much better,” Dean grinned. “But okay, fine. If you stick around I’ll give you a ride home.”

“Don’t worry about grabbing a bottle. I’m fully stocked.”

\-------------------------

“I am in the wrong line of work. This place is twice the size of mine.”

“You’re in the wrong line of work because you’re a cop.”

“Hey, it’s not that bad,” Dean took the glass from Cas’s hand and tilted it to his lips, smiling slowly when he felt the warmth in his chest. “I mean 70% of the time it’s pretty boring and tedious, but the other 30% can get crazy.”

“I take it you’ve seen some ugly shit?”

“We all have, but it’s not exactly something I want to talk about while I’m trying to prove that I’m actually a happy drunk.”

“How many drinks will it take for me to see the happy drunk?”

“A lot more than this,” Dean grinned.

\-------------------------

They set the bottle on the coffee table and watched it get emptier as the night went on. They were each laying on a couch, their shoes dropped on the floor, talking about the stupid shit they did when they were kids, in high school, and even as young adults. They’d both lived fairly colorful lives, and Dean proved that he was indeed a happy drunk. Cas was kneeling by the coffee table, pouring more drinks and watching Dean talk. He noticed Dean’s t-shirt slide further and further up as he moved his arms, talked, and laughed.

“See, that shit right there, that is what I’m talking about.”

“What?” Dean looked down to where Cas was pointing and pulled his shirt up. 

“Your stomach. There is no fucking way I could have abs like that.”

Dean laughed and ran his hand across his stomach, “They teach you shit in training, but most cops end up going the cliche donut route. A few of us try to stay in shape. It’s not a six pack or anything, you can see a few lines.”

Cas crawled over to the couch. “Okay, I’ll give you that, it’s more like a four pack, but still impressive.” He pushed Dean’s shirt further up. “And then there’s that, why do you even wear a shirt?”

Dean started to laugh, Cas’s hand slid down his chest and rested on his stomach. “I think the department would frown upon me showing up at work without a shirt on.”

“What about the bar? I’m guessing that your tips would increase significantly.”

“I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t turn out well either.” Dean drunkenly pulled his t-shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. “You haven’t said a thing about my shoulders or arms, should I be offended?”

“No, because I didn’t really see them until now. I’m pretty sure that I fucking hate you and that after we sober up we will no longer be friends.”

“You can’t even say that without laughing,” Dean smiled, shivering when he felt Cas’s hand move. He closed his eyes and relaxed with his hands behind his head. “So we can only be friends if we’re drunk? Or the friendship is over entirely?” He shivered again when Cas’s fingers grazed a sensitive nipple. 

“I haven’t decided yet,” Cas chuckled, sliding his hand up Dean’s chest, feeling the shiver. “Sorry, I…”

“Hey, a wise man once told me that it’s only awkward if you let it be. At least somebody appreciates the time I put in at the gym.”

“Everybody should appreciate the time you put in at the gym,” Cas said quietly, replacing his fingers with his lips. Dean cleared his mind and kept his eyes closed. The alcohol, the warm mouth touching his skin, he’d deal with it when he sobered up. Right now, he hadn’t felt like this in a long time and he didn’t want it to stop. He spread his legs when Cas climbed on the couch, running his lips along the waistband of his jeans. He reached for the hem of Cas’s t-shirt and pulled it over his head. “Now we’re even,” he smiled. “We aren’t even close to even, not until I start hitting the gym,” Cas murmured against his stomach, kissing his way up, pulling a nipple between his teeth and sucking gently. Dean groaned and arched his body, tilting his head back, wanting to feel the soft lips and warm mouth on his neck. Their chests slid together and Dean pulled his arms from behind his head, running them down Cas’s sides and up his back. Neither realized that their hips were rocking, neither realized that the other was hard. Cas leaned his head back and his blue eyes locked on Dean’s, emerald green and glassy. “Remember when we sober up that this wasn’t awkward,” he whispered, dipping his head to press their lips together, parting them, letting their tongues move slowly against one another. Dean held one hand to the back of Cas’s head, the other trailing down his spine. They were painfully hard, pushing against their jeans, but neither wanted to be the one to slide his hand between their bodies. Cas broke the kiss, bending his head to pull Dean’s other nipple between his lips, eliciting a moan. Dean took in a deep shuddering breath and slipped his hand between them to adjust himself, running his thumb along Cas’s zipper. “Have you ever?” Dean panted. “No, you?” Cas murmured. “Never. So what are we doing?” Cas rocked against Dean’s hand and moved his mouth back up his chest, “Whatever feels good and not over analyzing,” Cas said quietly. “Works for me,” Dean whispered, working his hand under Cas’s waistband to adjust him. He started sliding his fingers up and down the length of Cas’s shaft, stopping when Cas sat up long enough to undo his button and pull his zipper down. Dean smiled slowly and started stroking, undoing his own pants and guiding Cas’s hand to his throbbing cock. They rocked, sliding their palms against the silky skin, tightening their fingers to gently squeeze while they kissed passionately. Dean felt it, “I’m right there…” he moaned. “So am I,” Cas mumbled. They tensed and groaned as they both came on Dean’s stomach, breathing heavily. Cas finally tucked them both back into their pants and reached for his t-shirt, wiping the sticky mess from Dean’s skin. “Do you want another drink?” he asked, still panting. “I’d love another drink,” Dean smiled. He sat up, but made no move to pick up his shirt, he waited until Cas handed him the glass and made room on the couch for them to sit together. 

“So are we really not going to be friends when we’re sober?” Dean laughed.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Cas smiled.

The more they drank, the more they touched and kissed, finally falling asleep on the couch together in their boxers.

\-------------------------

Dean woke up with a powerful headache, wearing only boxers, disoriented, and could smell bacon and coffee. He sat up and rubbed his face, then searched for his jeans. He pulled them on without bothering to zip or button them and went into the bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face and looked in the mirror. There were a few small red and purple marks on his neck, easily hidden by a shirt, and darker marks on his chest. His nipples were sore and his stomach still felt sticky. He remembered almost everything but didn’t want to think about it, not while he was still at Cas’s. He did his best to clean off his stomach, splashed water on his face again, and ran his fingers through his hair before following the smell of food.

\-------------------------

 

“What time is it?”

“About 8:30.”

“Don’t you have to make brunch for like hundreds of people in a few hours? Fuck, do you have anything for a headache?”

“Yes and yes. Coffee?”

“Please.”

“Black? Cream? Sugar? Or feel free to look in my fridge if you’re into the flavored stuff.”

“You have no idea how much shit I get at the station for using the flavored stuff, aaand you have my favorite.” Dean sat on a stool at the kitchen island and picked up the tylenol and glass of water gratefully, pouring creamer in the mug that Cas set down in front of him. 

“To answer any and all of your lingering questions,” Cas said, grabbing plates out of the cabinet. “We’re pretty much sober and still friends, but I fucking hate you because your body is a lot hotter than mine. I hate you even more because your dick is bigger. With that being said. I meant it, and I hope that you meant it, when we said it’s only awkward if we let it be. I’m not bothered by it,” he locked eyes with Dean, “but I get it if you are.”

“It wasn’t exactly the message that I was intending to convey when I said that I’m a happy drunk. I’m not bothered. I’ll be honest, a part of me has always wondered. I’ve just never...”

“It was a first for me too,” Cas said quietly, setting a plate in front of Dean. “Sorry about the…”

Dean looked down at his chest, “I guess you figured out the nipple thing.”

“It wasn’t difficult. You’re a pretty responsive guy,” Cas smiled.

“I’ve been called a lot of things, but never responsive,” Dean grinned. “Now if you have to leave here and cook, why in the hell are you sitting here eating with me?”

“Well, because we are still friends. If you are as hungover as I am, you feel like total shit and need coffee and food desperately. And, this is better than anything I’ll make at the restaurant today. Consider me your personal chef at the moment.”

“We need to hang out more often.”

“Because of the breakfast, or the alcohol…”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Dean smiled. “But we really do need to hang out more often.”

They ate quietly, smiling when they made eye contact. Dean finally let out a happy sigh and leaned back, drinking the last of his coffee.

With a quick one armed hug, Dean left and Cas got ready for work. Dean spent over an hour writing in his notebook before he took a hot shower and crawled into bed to sleep off the rest of the hangover.

\-------------------------

Dean heard his phone and picked it up from his nightstand.

_“Fun fact: eggs benedict look and smell like ass when you have a hangover.”_

He just chuckled.

 _“Fun fact: you just woke me up from a nap._ ”

He felt the phone go off in his hand.

_“Fun fact: good because you’re an asshole for getting to go back to bed.”_

He laughed and set the phone back on his nightstand, pulling the blankets over his head to keep out the light.

\-------------------------

“Well, you’re in an awfully chipper mood considering that we still have a shit ton of paperwork to finish before the DA moves on this thing.”

Dean finished pouring creamer in his coffee and turned to Bobby, “and there is something wrong with chipper?”

“No, it’s just not like you.”

“I’m multi faceted, Bobby. Now, I know that we have a ton of paperwork, hence the massive amount of coffee. I know if this is big enough, we’ll have to sit down with the DA. This isn’t my first rodeo, big guy. Eat a donut, it’ll make you feel better.”

“This was a multi million dollar racket.”

“So you dot the i’s and I’ll cross the t’s. How long have you been with Organized Crime? A hell of a lot longer than I have. Shit has changed. We are busting punk kids, and not even smart ones. This is why you need to learn to use a goddamn computer. That’s how they’re pulling this shit, they get one or two guys who can hack or code and they pass information without putting it on paper. Most of what we found in that office was worthless. It’s all on hard drives. We are going to need to get tech involved in this one too. It’s messy, but a huge bust. Maybe that’s why I’m so chipper,” Dean smiled.

“Or it has something to do with that damn red mark on your neck. Cover that shit up, boy. It ain’t professional.”

\-------------------------

Dean was drying glasses and ignoring the new cocktail waitress. She’d probably heard the stories, but she kept looking at him anyway. He didn’t think that he would ever understand why his reputation didn’t matter to some women. It wasn’t just the other cocktail waitresses either. He’d gone home with more than one customer, women who still came in and still looked at him like he was going to eventually call. He just made their drinks with a smile, and moved on to the next order.

He was wiping down the bar, when the lights dimmed and the band started. He looked up and saw the familiar outline.

“Okay, not that I really listen, but I know this is not your sous’s band.”

“Yeah, I’m hoping that they are better.”

“So you’re either here to discover the latest and greatest sound to come out of Seattle since grunge, or you just dig the ambiance?”

“Mostly the ambiance. And, if I act miserable enough I can usually get the bartender to sneak me a shot on the house.”

“Really,” Dean smiled. “Sounds shady, I should probably report the guy.”

“I know a cop if you need his number.”

“I’d call my partner to come handle the situation, but he’d just think I was being kinky when I asked to be cuffed.”

“Isn’t your partner pushing 60?”

“He calls me ‘kid’ if that tells you anything.”

“I don’t know,” Cas shrugged. “Maybe some people like cutesy pet names.”

“Okay, this conversation is going down a path that I really don’t want to take,” Dean laughed. “Let’s just leave Bobby out of it.”

“You’re the one who brought up the cuffs.”

“And I sincerely regret it. So, you’re branching out musically. Instead of coming to see one shitty band, now you will have seen two.”

“You never know, a good one may actually come through here some day.”

“I’m not holding my breath,” Dean laughed. “Beer?”

“It’s a good start. I see you have a new cocktail waitress.”

“Yeah, I wonder how long it took for her to hear the stories. I’m guessing that’s part of the training manual. Don’t fuck the green eyed bartender,” Dean smiled, setting the glass on the bar. “I would ask if you came to see me, but that just sounds arrogant and presumptuous.” 

“It does sound arrogant and presumptuous, but is it a problem if I did?”

“Not at all,” Dean grinned. “Even if you do hate me.”

“I’m getting a gym membership. Just give it time, I’ll put my six pack up against your four pack anytime.”

“Now that,” Dean laughed, “sounds kinky. I need to go play nice with the new cocktail waitress, show her how to not piss off Dean Winchester when he’s tending bar. I’ll come back in a few.”

\-------------------------

Dean felt bad for the poor girl. She had no experience and he knew that he wasn’t an easy bartender to deal with. He wanted his orders quickly and he wanted them done right. He made her just stand back during intermission and watch. He wanted her to understand the way he did things. He saw the fear in her eyes and knew that he’d probably never see her again. The band started up and he walked back down the bar.

“Just beer tonight?”

“Got anything top shelf?”

“Are you planning on paying for it?”

“No,” Cas scoffed.

“You are seriously such an asshole.”

“Again with the cutesy pet names.”

Dean reached for the clear bottle and a shot glass. “Here’s your top shelf,” he leaned over the bar and handed it to Cas. He didn’t see Cas look around, he just felt the sharp pinch. “Seriously, my nipple? Son of a bitch.”

“I figured if you were going to call me an asshole, I might as well do something to deserve it.”

“Damnit, they’re still fucking sore.”

“I call bullshit, it’s been days.”

“Hey, you weren’t gentle.”

“You weren’t complaining. Try and tell me you didn’t like it.”

“When? Last weekend or right now?”

“Both,” Cas smiled.

“I’m not even going to justify that with an answer,” Dean smirked, turning to walk away.

“That’s what I thought,” Cas called.

\-------------------------

“So, I have a hypothetical dilemma.”

“Oh really,” Dean smiled. “What is this hypothetical dilemma?”

“Well, I know a guy who goes to this dive bar every once in awhile. He showed up one night, but was irresponsible and unprepared. He hadn’t arranged a ride home. Now, he has two options. He can call a cab, which costs money and he’d have to go through all of that giving the driver his address bullshit. Or, he can ask a friend who already knows where he lives to take pity on him.”

“I would say that the guy should ask himself which matters more, money or time. He can spend the money for a cab and leave any time he wants. But, if he wants to go the cheap and silent route, he may have to wait for the friend.”

“I hate waiting.”

“I guess impatience comes with a price.”

“True,” Cas nodded. “Patience is considered a virtue, but I am by no means considered virtuous. An exercise in patience might actually help my personal growth. So in all reality, this is a life lesson more than it is a hypothetical dilemma.”

“Are you planning to invite me in for a drink?”

“Does it really matter?”

“No,” Dean laughed. “Not really.”

\-------------------------

“I was kidding about inviting me in for a drink.”

“You didn’t have to come in.” 

“Fair enough,” Dean shrugged, taking the drink from Cas’s hand. “But make sure you cut me off after two.”

“You’re a big boy, you’ll know when to cut yourself off.”

“Again, fair enough. So, why a chef?

“Well,” Cas sighed, leaning back on the opposite couch. “I grew up in a large family. Not just a lot of siblings, but cousins, aunts, uncles. There was always a grandmother cooking in a kitchen somewhere, and I was the scrawny kid who stood on a step stool and helped. Turns out, I’m good at it and I like it. In it’s own way, it’s art. I create things, people appreciate them. I know that the restaurant would still be standing and probably expensive as hell if I’d never shown up, but I’d like to think that my work has something to do with the success.”

“Have you ever thought of opening one of your own?”

“Thought about it? Yeah, I think that most chefs do. But, like I said before, most of them go under within the first year and I don’t have enough expendable cash laying around to attempt it. Chances are, it would cost me a hell of a lot more money than I would make. So, I show up six nights a week, pull together weekend brunch, and everybody goes home happy. What about you? Why the move and the decision to get off the streets and behind the desk?”

“Well,” Dean sighed, pouring his second drink. “I was in my 20’s and from the midwest. I didn’t exactly grow up in the inner city and I hit the streets totally clueless. My partner, he was close to my age and from the area. I still don’t understand why they would pair a young guy like him with a newbie from a small town. I’ll admit, I started out scared shitless. It was a rough neighborhood. I saw prostitutes being slapped around by their pimps on street corners. I watched junkies shoot up while they were sitting on the sidewalk and leaning against a building. I don’t know how many times we would stop to check if they were still breathing when they slumped over. It was everywhere and it was considered little shit that wasn’t worth calling in. The pimps, they wouldn’t do time because nobody would testify. Nobody was held accountable. It was a three ring fucking circus and we were just there to make sure that everybody played nice. We didn’t do a fucking thing to clean up the area, we didn’t really help anybody. I don’t know how many times I stood on the sidewalk or in the middle of the street and waited for an ambulance to show up, knowing that it was too late. Overdoses, suicides, gang bullshit. Basic shit turned into brawls. I had guns pulled on me. You probably didn’t notice the scar, but I had a knife buried about three inches into my side one night. I had to draw on people, I pulled the trigger a few times, but never for a kill shot. Tasers don’t work when they’re all hopped up and it really fucking sucks to shoot a guy before he can shoot you, even if it is just a leg wound to stop them. It’s not easy to come out of training thinking that you are going to save the world just to end up in a studio apartment laying your head on your pillow knowing that at the end of the day, you weren’t saving anyone. All you were doing was getting by. I wanted to be the one, the inspiring story. Instead I was just the white cop, the pretty boy.” Dean’s eyes had started to glaze over as he took a sip of his drink. “Then we got the call. A domestic. Some asshole was beating the shit out of his wife in front of their kids, and they were little kids too. Dirty, smelled so bad that it was hard to breathe. They didn’t even hide the glass pipes, just left them laying on the coffee table. By then, I’d seen a lot of shit, but I’d never seen anything like this. It was an absolute fucking nightmare and as a human being, my first reaction was to just cry. Honestly, that’s what I wanted to do. But I was so pissed off, I looked at those little kids and at the bastard who was using them as a human shield. I couldn’t do it anymore after that. I took off my uniform that night before I got in the shower, and I never put it back on. I was offered a spot behind a desk, and I took it. I’m not saving the world, I’m not going to, but I’m still trying to do the right thing.”

Cas just watched Dean’s watery eyes, his shaking lips, heard the quiet torment in his voice, and he wanted to cry. He wanted to ask, he desperately wanted to ask, he wanted to know, but he couldn’t speak. The air was heavy and it was almost in a haze that he watched Dean finish his drink and set the glass on the coffee table.

“Well, thanks for the two drinks, but I think I’m going to head out. I have to uh,” he sniffled quietly. “I have at least ten hours of paperwork ahead of me tomorrow, so I should probably get some sleep. Sorry to lay all of that shit on you, I don’t usually talk about it,” Dean let out a deep breath and stood up. “I’ll just, uh...I’ll see myself out. Thanks Cas,” he said quietly.

Cas shut his eyes when he heard the door close.

\-------------------------

Dean sat in his car, the key in the ignition, unable to stop the images from flashing. He didn’t know how many notebooks he’d filled just about that night alone. Sometimes he would take old notebooks out and look through them, but those, those were tucked away and covered with dust. He felt like he couldn’t breathe when he rested his forehead against the steering wheel.

\-------------------------

Cas was just picking up the glasses and carrying them into the kitchen when he heard the knock. He set them on the counter and opened the door.

“It was blood,” Dean said quietly. “On my uniform, it was covered in blood.”

Cas led him back to the couch and grabbed the glasses, filling them with scotch and putting one in Dean’s shaking hand.

“It was like a dream, a fucking nightmare. Slow motion. I could hear her screaming, the wife, when he pulled the gun out from the back of his waistband. I couldn’t move, I just watched when he pulled the trigger, point blank, at his own kids. I was lined up for the kill shot. I have never in my life wanted to watch somebody die, not until that night. I didn’t get a chance for the shot. He put the gun in his mouth, but not until after he killed my partner. He was standing right next to me and I felt it when the bullet hit him. I grabbed him before he went down, but he was already gone. I barely remember radioing for backup, but when they got there I was just sitting on the floor, holding my partner, watching that woman try to convince herself that her kids were somehow going to be okay.” Dean finished his drink in two swallows and dropped his head. “A month of paid administrative leave and multiple psychological evaluations later, I asked to be taken off patrol.” He reached out and waited for Cas to pour him more scotch. “I’ve never told that story to anyone,” he said quietly. “Not even my family, or Bobby. I asked them to seal my records when I moved here. All anyone knows is that I worked patrol in Oakland for a few years and a transfer to a desk job was something that I wanted.” He felt Cas cross the room and stand in front of him. He set his glass down and wrapped his arms around Cas’s waist, burying his face against the thin fabric of his t-shirt. He tried to stop the tears, he closed his eyes and tilted his head, but they slowly rolled down his cheeks anyway. 

“What time do you need to be at work?” Cas asked softly.

“Eight-ish.”

“Well, you’re not driving anywhere. C’mon.” Cas helped him stand and wrapped his arms around him, feeling his body shake. He finally got him calmed down enough to lead him to the bedroom and strip him to his boxers, pulling him into the bed and against his body. “You shouldn’t be alone tonight,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the top of Dean’s head.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Yeah, I do. I can’t let you leave, not like this.”

He laid awake until Dean’s body stopped trembling and he heard the soft snore. He pulled the blanket over their bodies and pressed his lips to the top of Dean’s head again and closed his eyes.

\-------------------------

The sun was barely filtering through the curtains when Dean opened his eyes, trying to blink away the haze of of sleep, and tilted his head. He saw Cas’s eyelids flutter and open, that shade of blue that he’d never seen before. He felt Cas’s fingers on the side of his face, his thumb slowly caressing his cheekbone. He reached for Cas’s hand and softly kissed the inside of his wrist before sliding up and pressing their lips together. He rolled on top of Cas, settling between his legs and breaking the kiss to run his full lips along the sensitive skin of his neck and across his shoulder. He lifted his head, the question in his eyes answered by Cas’s hands sliding down his back. They dropped their boxers on the floor and wordlessly rocked against one another, trapping their hard cocks between them. Cas pulled Dean into a deep kiss, running his fingers down his sides, feeling the scar against his palm. He tilted his hips and pressed his hands against the natural dip of Dean’s lower back. He’d never thought that a man’s body could make him feel the things that he was feeling, or that his kiss would taste so sweet. The smell of musk and raw sex permeated the room and they could both feel the throbbing between them. Not a word had been spoken when Cas arched and came, crying out, waiting for Dean. He heard the loud groan and felt the warmth between them spread as their bodies came together and Cas pulled Dean into his arms, letting him bury his face in his neck. Dean finally lifted himself up on his elbows and they locked eyes, while he tenderly ran his fingers down the side of Cas’s cheek. He dipped his head for a slow kiss and rollled on his back. Cas reached for his hand and led him to the shower. 

\-------------------------

“Do you need to leave for work?” Cas asked quietly, finally breaking the silence while they finished getting dressed.

“I uh...I honestly don’t know if I’m going to go in today. It’s all just, it’s a little overwhelming,” he scoffed, looking at the ceiling instead of at Cas.

“Dean, look at me, please?”

Dean finally turned his head, his eyes pained and embarrassed.

“Let me at least make some breakfast.”

Dean looked at the floor and then back at Cas and slowly nodded. “Yeah, okay,” he whispered.

\-------------------------

Cas smiled when Dean dug through his refrigerator for coffee creamer before he sat down on the stool at the kitchen island. Cas set a mug of hot coffee, a glass of water, and tylenol in front of him and turned around to start cooking.

“I’m sorry.” Dean’s voice was quiet and ragged.

“For what?”

“Dumping all of that shit on you, for all of this. Honestly, I don’t really know.”

“I’m not. We don’t ever need to talk about it again, you don’t ever need to talk about it again, but last night you did, and I was here to listen. Nothing has happened between us that I didn’t want to happen. It’s overwhelming, but not something that we need to overthink. I saw a question in your eyes and I answered it, there’s nothing to regret. You’re in a fucked up place right now, I can see it and feel it. Now, hand me your phone. I’ll text your partner and tell him that you’re sick. I’ll make sure that you get home okay and probably back into bed, and then I’ll call or text you so that you don’t have to worry about that awkward moment. I’m starting to get you, Dean. You let me in and now you’re second guessing yourself. Don’t. Just eat some basic bacon and eggs made by a master chef and let me take care of the rest.”

Dean pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Cas, “Bobby.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Why are you doing all of this?”

“I don’t know why, I just am.”

\-------------------------

Cas followed Dean to his apartment, followed him up the stairs, watched him give Balthazar food and water. “I’ll take the dog out while you get your clothes off and get into bed. I brought a sleeping pill, I get insomnia sometimes. You can take it if you want and try to sleep this off, but I understand if you don’t want it. Do you work at the bar tonight” Dean just shook his head and ran his hands down his face. Cas handed Dean the pill and found Balty’s leash. The dog sniffed at him, vaguely remembering his scent from when they went jogging and happily followed him down the stairs for a walk around the park area of the apartment complex. Dean was already stripped to his boxers and curled up on the couch with a blanket and the remote. Balty sniffed at him and tried to lick his face, finally wandering into the kitchen to eat. Cas bent down and pressed his lips to Dean’s forehead. “Try to get some sleep and I’ll call you. Don’t overanalyze this, Dean.”

Dean looked at Cas and tried to smile. “Thank you, for everything.”

Cas just nodded and left, closing the door quietly behind him. Dean reached for the bottle of water he’d set out and took the sleeping pill before finding a movie and rolling on his side, hanging his arm off the couch, waiting for Balthazar, knowing that he would stay next to him while he slept. He finally felt the wet nose and scratched him behind the ears until he starting softly snoring.

\-------------------------

Dean was still groggy when he sat up and ran his hands down his face. The last 24 hours came back to him and he replayed Cas’s words over and over again. Nothing had happened that he didn’t want to happen and he shouldn’t overanalyze it. He thought about walking down to the gym or even going for a jog, but he didn’t have the energy. He considered sitting in the community hot tub, but he didn’t want to be out in public. The things that he’d said last night, he’d never actually uttered those words out loud. He’d written them down. He written about that night in so many ways, but he never told anyone about it. He’d stayed close mouthed during his psychological evaluations until they finally suggested that he either leave the force entirely or take a desk job. He was done with patrol the minute he heard the first bullet. He sighed and picked his phone up off of the coffee table. One unread message.

_“If you’re reading this, then obviously you’re awake. If you’re hungry, text me back. Even if you’re not hungry, text me back.”_

He chugged the rest of the bottle of water and let Balty lick his face while he murmured softly and scratched him behind the ears, letting him know that everything was okay. He looked at the phone in his hand for a minute, not quite knowing what to say.

_“I am awake, I am a little hungry, and I’m texting you back. I just wanted to tell you thanks, again.”_

He set his phone back on the coffee table and went in search of his bag. He needed his notebook and pen. Was this reality? Was it poetry? He wasn’t sure, but he needed to get it on paper. He needed to try and make some sense of it. The scotch, the words that had come out of his mouth, that was reality. The pictures that flashed, the sounds that he could still hear and the scents that he could still smell. But Cas, Cas was poetry. He was jaded and sarcastic, smart and witty. He was the kind of guy you had a few beers with and took turns playing wing man. He was gentle and kind, sincere and passionate. He was the kind of guy who brought you to his bed when you were an emotional mess, but didn’t ask for anything in return. He was the kind of guy who walked your dog and wondered if you were hungry. They hadn’t known each other long, but Dean had never experienced anyone like him. 

_“Steak or chicken? Don’t bother texting me back to tell me that I don’t have to bring you dinner. We don’t have to hang out, I can just drop it off on your doorstep. If you don’t give me an answer, expect me to be there around 9:00 with both.”_

Dean couldn’t help but smile.

_“I’ll see you at 9:00.”_

He took Balty for a walk before he sat on the couch with his notebook propped against his legs and started to write.

\-------------------------

He stood up and slid the notebook into his bag when he heard the knocking. He glanced at the clock and realized that he’d been writing for hours.

“I don’t know if you give Balty human food, but on the off chance that you do, I brought him a container of scraps.”

“Yeah, he can have people food. He’s going to love you more than he loves me if you keep this shit up,” Dean smiled and took the containers from Cas’s arms. “There is no way that this is all for me.”

“Well, I was actually hoping that you’d invite me to stay and eat,” Cas grinned. “But, if you need the ‘me’ time, I get it.”

“I’ve had enough ‘me’ time for one day. Granted, I spent most of it sleeping.”

Cas looked up from where he was opening a container and met Dean’s eyes, “But you feel better?”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed. “I just…”

“If you are in any way considering any type of apology, I am going to have to pre-emptively not accept. Let’s just sit down and eat. If you behave yourself I might be willing to tell you all about what goes on in the kitchen at The Cliffs on a Friday night.”

“But I have to behave to get the juicy details?”

“I need to know if you can be trusted not to make my shady dealings public knowledge. I mean, I already had the Organized Crime Unit show up once,” Cas smiled. 

\-------------------------

“Do you want another beer?” Dean asked from where he was leaning into the refrigerator.

“Remember, two drink limit when I’m driving.”

Cas smiled when Dean replaced his empty plate with a cold bottle, his third of the night. “Are you encouraging me to drive drunk?”

“Hey, I’m not going to force you to drink it,” Dean shrugged. “I already had the cap off and I didn’t want it going to waste.”

Cas wrapped his hand around the bottle, but made no move to pick it up. 

“I’m not going to bug you to stay,” Dean said quietly.

“We’ve used the word ‘awkward’ at least a half a dozen times now, and we’re getting really close to our limit on ‘overthink’. Have I been thinking about you most of the day? Yes. This, it’s your thing and I told you that we don’t ever need to talk about it again. If you want to be alone, I get it. You’ll just end up stuck drinking that beer. If you don’t want to be alone, then it’s mine.”

“I think I misjudged you when we met.”

“Good. If I let anyone else know about this whole ‘nice’ thing, then they’d expect it from me all of the time and that shit would just get exhausting.”

“So, why me?”

“Honestly, I still don’t know. What about you? You’ve stayed quiet.”

“I’m fine with retiring certain words. I crossed a line last night and I expected to wake up and regret it. I didn’t think I’d ever talk about it and I’m surprised that I did. Maybe it’s because you aren’t family or another cop, I really don’t know. I just don’t want to see pity in your eyes, I don’t ever want to see pity.”

“I don’t pity you,” Cas said softly, standing up and wrapping his arms around Dean. “I admire you. You could have followed a lot of ugly paths, alcohol, drugs, violence. You moved forward without completely putting it behind you. That takes a lot of strength.”

Dean took a deep shuddering breath. “Thank you,” he whispered, pressing his lips to Cas’s temple. “Drink the beer, or I can pour you a glass of liquor. Let’s do something mundane and normal like find a movie to watch. No expectations, just time. Maybe I’m a selfish bastard, but that’s all I want right now, time.”

“Which I have plenty of until I have to whip up omelettes and crepes for pretentious pricks and their trophy wives.”

“The remote is on the coffee table. You pick a movie, I’ll clean up this mess,” Dean said softly, pulling away to run his hand up the side of Cas’s face. Their eyes locked, Dean knew that he could lose himself in that shade of blue. He slid his hand around the back of Cas’s neck, taking an uncertain risk when he pressed their lips together. It was soft, it was sweet, and something about it was right. Cas looked at him and nodded almost imperceptibly when he let go and picked up the cold beer on his way to the living room, Balty following his new friend. Dean watched his back and cleared his head, focusing on the here and now while he rinsed plates and threw away containers.

\-------------------------

“All I can come up with is that the cable company is under the impression that most people have lives and aren’t home on Friday nights to watch TV.”

“Order something on demand, or check Netflix.”

“Wait, does that mean that you asked me to stay so that we could Netflix and…”

“No,” Dean laughed. “But there’s got to be something.”

“Stupid comedy?”

“Stupid comedy works,” Dean shifted and leaned back against Cas’s chest. Balthazar had looked at them with something resembling jealous scorn when they’d laid on the couch, Dean between Cas’s legs and one of Cas’s arms wrapped around him. They settled on the stupid comedy and Cas set the remote down, wrapping his other arm around Dean, kissing him softly on the top of his head. 

\-------------------------

Dean was distracted by the lazy trailing of Cas’s fingers across his stomach. He unconsciously slid backwards, pressing their bodies together, giving Cas access to his neck. He felt the warm lips, the hand slowly slide under his shirt, fingertips gently grazing his nipples. He turned his head and their mouths came together passionately. “Do you want to go in the…” he whispered. Cas just nodded and followed him off of the couch, closing the bedroom door behind him. “Is the closed door going to piss off the dog?” Dean just smiled as he reached for Cas’s belt, “I really don’t give a shit right now.”

\-------------------------

Dean’s mouth moved across Cas’s chest, pulling a nipple between his teeth to gently suck. “Oh god, now I get it,” Cas softly moaned. He kissed and nipped his way down Cas’s stomach, wrapping his fingers around his rigid cock, slowly stroking. He ran his tongue across the top of the head, tasting the pre come. He felt the moan and took it into his mouth, gently sucking, It felt right, his rough tongue sliding against the silky skin of Cas’s shaft, his sensitive head rubbing against the roof of Dean’s mouth. Cas’s legs began to tremble when he reached down and softly pressed his hands to the back of Dean’s head. He felt the vibration when Dean took him deep and moaned around him. He was throbbing, his stomach was tight, and he started to slowly rock his hips. He looked down and watched Dean’s head moving up and down, the wet warmth, the sight of his cock sliding in and out of Dean’s mouth was too much and he groaned, “Oh god...I’m right there…” Dean moaned one last time and opened his throat, swallowing the warm sticky come when Cas’s body tensed and he cried out. He felt Cas sink into the bed while he licked and sucked until he was limp and sensitive. He crawled up and laid his head on the pillow. Nothing about this felt wrong.

“You’re just going to lay there on your back? I know that you said you’re not a cuddler, but that was easily the best that I have ever had. Come here,” Cas said quietly, reaching for Dean. “I just want to feel you.”

Dean slid his body closer, letting himself be wrapped in Cas’s arms.

“This isn’t over, I’m not selfish enough to get mine just to roll over and fall asleep.”

“Cas...you don’t….”

“Dean, haven’t you figured out that I don’t do anything that I don’t want to do? I never expected that I would be laying in bed, wondering how another man tastes, but now I can’t stop thinking about it.”

\-------------------------

Cas didn’t expect Dean to be so active, to rock his hips and come so hard. He didn’t expect it to taste so good or feel so right. He could feel himself growing hard and he knew that if Dean could get it up again, he would slide the pillows under his hips and let Dean fuck him, but he also knew that they weren’t there. Not yet. He pulled Dean’s body against his and listened to the soft snoring, asking himself why he was thinking ‘not yet’. Why he couldn’t stop thinking about the toned body of the cop/bartender who was asleep in his arms. He didn’t understand it, but he knew that there was something about Dean Winchester that made it impossible to stay away. He closed his eyes and buried his face in the back of Dean’s neck, smiling when Dean reached up and wrapped his fingers around Cas’s arms. 

\-------------------------

“Okay, so the dog is definitely pissed off at us.”

“Then make him breakfast,” Dean grinned, taking a sip of coffee.

“Seriously? Breakfast for a fucking dog?”

“Hey, you brought him steak tips last night. You are best friends now. He can smell the bacon and we did lock him out of the bedroom.”

“You are trying to guilt trip me into cooking for your dog?”

Dean chuckled, “I’m not trying to do a damn thing. I’m just telling you how to get back on Balty’s good side.”

“I’m guessing that you don’t have a whole lot of sleepovers?”

“Uh, no. This was actually my first so he’s probably jealous as hell.”

“Your first?”

“Well, I don’t want to bring them here. I know that it makes me an asshole, but the less they know about me the better. I don’t give out my number and I don’t let them know where I live. Hell, if I can get away without even exchanging names, I’m fine with it.”

“And then I showed up.” Cas smiled, looking at the dog and throwing more bacon in the pan.

“I’m going to be brutally honest. Shit, I’ve been more honest with you than anyone else. Not only did I never expect to share my bed, I sure as hell didn’t expect to share it with a man. I told you that a part of me has always wondered, but I really didn’t expect that I’d like giving head. Now that stays between us, and I can’t believe that I just admitted to it.”

“Hey, it all stays between us. Conversations, activities, it’s nobody’s business. And as far as the liking it thing, I’m kind of on the same page there. Granted, you have more to work with so I had to keep the gag reflex in check, but it wasn’t an altogether horrible experience.”

“Not an altogether horrible experience? Well that’s comforting,” Dean grinned.

“You want me to stand here, cooking your dog breakfast, and admit that I actually liked giving you a blow job?”

“Yes.”

Cas set a plate in front of Dean and smiled. “Fine. Balty gets bacon, I liked giving you head, and I’m strangely not freaked out about it at all. At least tell me that I was good at it.”

“I came hard, that should tell you something.”

“Okay,” Cas grinned, hand feeding the dog. “I’m not going to put it on my resume, but it’s something that I would consider doing again.”

“Do you have time before work?” Dean laughed.

Cas saw how calm Dean’s eyes were, how real his smile was, and tried not to think about why it mattered to him. “If I did, then I’d just be spoiling you. I need to try to play hard to get so that you’ll call me, right?”

“Yeah, that always works with Dean Winchester. But, I do actually have your number saved in my phone. Normally I pretend to put the number in and delete the shit as soon as they are out of sight.”

“Well, I’m honored and I’ve got to get home and start getting ready for work. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean smiled softly. “I’m okay. I uh...I appreciate everything, and I don’t just mean what happened in my bedroom. You walked my fucking dog because I was a mess. I laid some heavy shit on you, and you stuck around. I don’t know how to thank you…”

“You don’t have to, Dean. Just don’t ask me why. I still don’t have an answer for that.” Cas pressed his lips to Dean’s forehead, running his hand up the side of Dean’s face. “Off to feed the pompous masses. I’ll see myself out.”

\-------------------------

Dean threw the bar towel over his shoulder and looked around. He never really understood what drew people to dives like this. He had to stop himself from checking the end of the bar, he knew that it was a group of women who were mistaking his frustration for interest. He’d already given them a charming smile and thrown away two phone numbers when their backs were turned. He hadn’t received a text, but he hadn’t sent one either. 

He finished his shift, split the tips, and went back to his apartment alone.

\-------------------------

The five miles were easy. The burning in his chest and arms from the weights was welcome. His voice was soft when he talked to his mother, sarcastic when he talked to his brother, Sam. He did laundry, made a mess of the bathroom by giving Balthazar a badly needed bath, and sat down with his notebook. He wanted Cas, he at least wanted a text, but he knew why he hadn’t heard from him. Cas was giving him space, letting him work through things without distraction. He didn’t know how he knew that, he just did. What he wrote, it was poetry, it was a story, it was about confusion and need and trust. It was about being untouchable, yet craving someone’s touch. He finally slipped the notebook into his bag and went to bed.

\-------------------------

“They’re bringing in the feds?” Dean asked, scowling. “I hate when they bring in the feds.”

“Well, this thing was bigger than we thought. Millions of dollars and it crossed state lines. It goes RICO, it goes to the big boys. We’re just here to box up their shit and hand it over, kid.”

Dean sighed and rubbed his forehead, pulling up old case files on his computer.

“Are ya feeling better?”

“Huh?”

“That food poisoning you had on Friday. I figured you must have been bad off, I don’t remember you missing a day.”

“Yeah, it was brutal,” Dean mumbled. “So where are we at now? Forget the chop shop and go back to these real estate investors?”

“That’s a good place to start. Why this damn force decided they needed an Organized Crime Unit is beyond me.”

“So guys like us would have a reason to bitch. I say we go over these interviews and the public numbers, see if we have enough to get a warrant for the internal ledgers and hard drives.”

“Do you ever feel like that whole serve and protect thing is bullshit?”

“I don’t know, Bobby. I don’t think I’ve ever served and protected.”

\-------------------------

“Well, that report is done and on on it’s way to the DA’s office. I don’t think that we’re going to get our warrant. These guys may be assholes who are skimming off the top a little, but they sure as hell don’t seem organized to me. I think we’re looking at fraud. So, we can scratch that off our list. I’m going blind staring at this damn computer so I think I’m going to close it down for the night.”

“Oh, come on. We’ve only been here for nine hours,” Bobby smiled. “I’m right behind ya kid. I’m hoping a new file crosses our desk soon. A lot of this shit has gone cold and ain’t worth looking into.”

“Hey, be careful what you wish for. We could end up with something really ugly. Have a good night.”

“You too.”

\-------------------------

It was almost dark out when Dean took Balthazar for a walk. He fed and watered him, took a hot shower, and sat down with his notebook. He read what he’d written just a couple of days ago. He still hadn’t received a text, but again, he hadn’t sent one. Cas didn’t want to be a band aid, Cas wanted to be wanted. He stared at the blank page and closed the notebook without having written a word. He finally took the last sip of scotch and set the glass in the sink. Balty was on his heels as he walked into the bedroom. He climbed under the sheets and could still smell the faint scent of Cas’s skin. He didn’t know why he hadn’t washed them with the rest of his laundry. He checked his alarm before reaching to turn off the lamp. He buried his face in the pillow and tried to clear his mind. 

\-------------------------

Dean didn’t bother to look up when Bobby dropped the file on his desk. “Ask and ye shall receive?”

“Something like that. We’ve got someone selling knock offs.”

“A lot of people sell knock offs. They get the shit cheap from overseas and slap a label on it.”

“Yeah, well the big dogs are thinking local sweatshop and multiple sales locations. They’ve put some work into covering their tracks so that they don’t look related.”

“So, the goal is to find the sweatshop?”

“Why not go big? Let’s figure out where to start. We may have to go street level.”

“Yeah, because you and I look like the kind of guys who shop for Gucci bags.”

“Have you always been this goddamn pissy?”

“No, I learned it from you,” Dean finally smiled. “You are a hell of a teacher, Bobby. I’m going to go grab more coffee. You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good. I don’t want to hear any bitching if Lefitte used the last of your girly shit.”

“I’ll just track down Lefitte.”

“Yeah, cuz it’s worth getting into an argument in a cop shop about who used the last of the coffeemate.”

“Damn straight, Bobby. It’s principle.”

\-------------------------

Dean didn’t want to go street level. He hated it. Plain clothes, rubbing shoulders with people who would try to take him out of they knew who he really was. It wasn’t fear, it was a stain that he couldn’t wash off. These were the dregs of society, people that had no consideration for human life as long as their pockets were lined. He looked over the top of his computer monitor at Bobby sitting at the desk that faced his own. Bobby could pull off an interview, but he was almost worthless in plain clothes, and Dean was one of the best that they had. He could have his pick of any unit. Vice, Gang Enforcement, Special Victims, Homicide, but he’d made his choice because he knew that Organized Crime was low key in a city this size. Most of their cases ended up being passed off to either the Feds or another unit. Nobody on the force understood why a guy like Dean Winchester, smart and charismatic, wanted to sit facing a grumpy old man staring at a computer screen all day. He’d considered leaving the force entirely, he’d considered it more than once. But, the first day of training made him realize that this is who he was. It was his mindset and he didn’t know how to be anything else. Dean Winchester was a police officer and in some way, shape, or form, he always would be.

\-------------------------

He hit send and set his phone down.

_“Hey, do you know where a guy can get a good sandwich in this town.”_

He heard the buzz and checked the message.

_“I do, but you need to answer one question for me, and you need to answer it honestly. Why?”_

He sighed and leaned back in his chair.

_“Honestly, I need a friendly face. I’m not looking for a band aid, I’m looking for a friend. I’m kind of short on those these days.”_

He smiled slightly when he read the message.

_“Noonish, no tomatoes, and no flashing your badge.”_

He looked over the top of his monitor at Bobby again and almost laughed as he watched him sort through the paper file.

_“Noonish, no tomatoes, no badge.”_

\-------------------------

Cas looked into Dean’s eyes. They weren’t empty or hollow. He didn’t see confusion. The light wasn’t there, not the one that he’d seen the first night they spent together, but they were calm. He took in the easy smile and tried not to remember how toned that body was under those clothes. He led him to the staff table and again, made him wait.

“I would let my sous do this so that you didn’t have to sit here, but if I’m going to feed a friend, I’m going to do it right,” Cas smiled, setting the plates down and and taking a chair across from Dean. 

“I appreciate that, although you don’t seem to have a lot of faith in that guy.”

“No, I do. He’s a good kid, lousy drummer, but a good kid. He’s back there prepping, and to be perfectly honest, I make a much better sandwich. So what’s up?”

“Passed our last case off to the Feds and picked up a new one. Complicated and tedious as hell.”

“But you can’t talk about it…”

“Nope, I can’t talk about it. I may have to go street level and I hate that shit. Bobby can’t do it, so it falls on me. Aaaand I’m whining about my job.”

“Whine away. I mean, I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about. The whining doesn’t bother me in the least. Although, I am going to guess that ‘street level’ means they are forcing you to be out and about amongst the general population.”

“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. And it’s something that I probably shouldn’t have told you.”

“My lips are sealed. So, out of curiosity, do they teach ‘Jaded 101’ in training?”

Dean shook his head and chuckled, “No, the jaded part usually comes along later. Unless you’re Bobby, then you just start out that way.”

“So what you’re saying is that he actually excels at his job? That he’s gifted?”

“I don’t know that I’d use the word ‘gifted’, but he is something,” Dean smiled.

“So seriously, why organized crime?”

“I’m a huge Al Pacino fan.”

“Your goal is to someday take down the Corleone family?” Cas grinned.

“That was the plan. You can imagine my disappointment when I realized not only was the Godfather just a movie…”

“Three.”

“Okay, that was it just three movies, although I don’t really count the third because it was so bad. But, the Italian Mob just doesn’t have a huge presence in this city. You’d think that there would be some type of seafood or coffee racket going on, but so far no luck.”

“Well, I am in the food industry. If I get any leads, I’ll let you know.”

“I do appreciate that,” Dean winked. “Technically Bobby and I aren’t part of the Seattle P.D. We actually are an offshoot of the Feds, they just stick us with the local boys. It works because when a case comes our way and we need help, we’ve got it. If other units need help, we’re there. It’s never actually happened, but we are contractually obligated to help out when asked.”

“But it doesn’t happen?”

“Nah. Bobby is a pain in the ass and I have a reputation for not playing well with others.”

“You have a reputation for not playing well with others?”

“Yep,” Dean grinned. “I started the rumors myself. It helped considerably when Benny Lefitte used my coffee creamer. Things got ugly there for awhile.”

Cas couldn’t help but laugh. “I would tell you about all of the madness that goes on around here, but I’ve got nothing.”

“No freak stovetop accidents? Dishwashing shenanigans?”

“Not yet, but I will keep you posted.”

They both leaned back, content and quietly eating. 

\-------------------------

“Hey, I’ll uh...I’ll walk you out,” Cas smiled following Dean from the restaurant and across the parking lot. 

They stopped and Dean leaned against his car. “Fun fact: if you trust your staff to close up shop tonight, there’s a good chance that I’ll be up late looking over some seriously boring files.”

\-------------------------

Dean held Cas’s body against the door with his own, pushing his jacket off of his shoulders. Their lips were pressed together and parted, their tongues sliding slowly. Cas reached for the hem of Dean’s t-shirt, pulling it over his head, and dropping it on the carpet. They moved through the apartment, tugging, unbuttoning, sliding zippers, leaving a trail of clothing, shutting the bedroom door behind them and falling to the mattress. Cas rolled on his back, pulling Dean on top of him, tilting his head when he felt the full lips touch his neck. Dean’s mouth was hot as it moved down his body, kissing and gently biting, pulling a nipple between his teeth. Cas moaned and spread his legs, feeling Dean’s lips against the sensitive skin on his hips and thighs. He watched as Dean raised his head and slipped his finger into his mouth, pulling it out slowly and reaching to press it against Cas’s hole, sliding it inside, eliciting a gasp. Dean moved it rhythmically, searching until he found the smooth spot that made Cas groan. His hand wrapped around Cas’s shaft, slowly stroking, swirling his tongue across the head of his cock. Cas was rocking against his finger, gripping the sheets and silently begging Dean to take him in his mouth. The wet warmth surrounded him, moving up and down, Dean’s tongue running across the silky skin, his finger grazing the place inside that brought a visible shiver. He was trying to hold back, he’d never felt anything like it and he didn’t want it to end. Dean moaned and took Cas down his throat, knowing that the vibration would put him over the edge. He pressed his finger deep and swallowed the warm sticky fluid, hearing his name echo off the walls. He licked and sucked slowly, watching Cas’s chest heave, finally climbing up the bed when Cas had gone limp.

\-------------------------

“Is that how you greet everybody?” Cas panted. “Because if it is, I really need to stop by more often.”

“No,” Dean chuckled. “It was kind of a spur of the moment thing. My intention was to invite you in and ask if you wanted a drink.”

“Just so you know, I fully support your decision to bypass that part,” Cas turned his head and smiled.

“So, do you want that drink?”

“I don’t think that I can move right now. Fuck, I can barely remember my own name right now. That was…”

“I’ll bring you one,” Dean smiled. Cas watched him climb out of bed and walk across the room, admiring his body. He closed his eyes and relaxed, vaguely hearing Dean moving around the apartment, water running, the sound of glasses clinking. He felt, more than saw, Dean set the glass on the nightstand next to him before setting his own drink down and climbing back into the bed. “Are you okay?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Cas murmured. “That just...it blew my mind. Literally.” He pulled himself up and leaned against the headboard, reaching for his drink.

“I guess I did something right.”

“Oh god, you did everything right. Well, I would change one thing...”

“Oh yeah?” Dean turned his head and looked at Cas. “What’s that?”

“I would have lasted longer. It may have killed me, but it would be a hell of a way to go.”

\-------------------------

“Are you sure?” Cas whispered, sucking and nipping on Dean’s neck and across his shoulders.

“Oh yeah,” Dean panted, watching Cas’s hand slide slowly up and down his hard cock. “This is perfect.”

“I could…”

“No, no, no...your hand is…oh god just keep doing that.” Dean was rocking his hips, Cas’s fingers knew when to tighten and when to relax around his shaft. He gasped when Cas’s mouth moved down his chest, pulling a nipple between his lips, gently biting. He rocked and moaned, feeling his stomach start to tense. He was throbbing, his chest heaving. “Faster,” he whispered, watching Cas stroke him. He closed his eyes and groaned, feeling the warm come drip on to his stomach. His breaths were still coming fast while Cas touched him until he was limp. Cas reached for the box of tissues and cleaned them up before pressing his lips to Dean’s and laying down next to him.

“That kind of felt a little, I don’t know, uneven. I mean what you did and what I did….”

“Oh god no,” Dean turned and looked at Cas. “This isn’t about who does what. Your hands are amazing, that was amazing. Now,” he struggled to sit up, “as much as I appreciate your efforts with the tissues, you are welcome to help me clean this sticky mess off in the shower.”

\-------------------------

They soaped each other’s bodies, kissing passionately under the warm water.

“How many drink are you planning on having?” Dean smiled.

“Is that your way of asking if I want to stay?” 

“Well, as a bartender it is my duty to keep the customer happy. As a cop it is my duty to make sure you don’t drive drunk. It’s a very fine line and I don’t want to cross it. It’s up to you. Unfortunately, I do get up early for work so I understand if you want to head home.”

“I could use a couple of more drinks,” Cas grinned.

\-------------------------

Cas rolled over when he heard the unfamiliar alarm. He felt the warm body against his and heard the defeated moan as Dean reached for his phone to turn it off. Dean moved closer and in a sleepy daze pressed his lips softly to Cas’s forehead, his cheeks, and finally his lips. “Do you have to start getting ready for…”

“I have some time,” Dean murmured, rolling on his back, pulling Cas on top of him. “God, I’m already hard, this shouldn’t take long.” He grinned, his eyes still closed when he felt Cas start rocking his hips. He arched his body and tilted his head back. He felt Cas’s lips drawing blood to the surface, but he didn’t care what anyone at the station might think. He was throbbing, Cas was moaning softly while their bodies slid together, their cocks trapped between them. Dean felt it, the slow build and he was teetering on the edge. “C’mon,” he whispered. “I want to feel you come.” Cas cried out as Dean groaned loudly, their hips moving slowly as they came quickly. He sighed and relaxed, pulling Cas’s sweaty body to his. “Do you want to help me clean up this mess?” he said softly, nipping at Cas’s ear.

“Of course,” Cas leaned his head back and grinned. “But are you going to text me and wake me up when I go home and go back to sleep?”

“Well, I wasn’t until you brought it up,” Dean laughed. “Let’s get in the shower and I’ll make coffee.”

“No breakfast?”

“No time. I’ll grab a donut at work.”

“Please don’t turn into the cliche cop,” Cas smiled, kissing him softly. “I kind of like the hard body and the jogging.”

“You like jogging?”

“When I watch you do it. C’mon Officer Winchester, let’s get you in the shower.”

\-------------------------

“Oh, now you’ve joined the donut ranks?” Bobby scowled as Dean dusted the crumbs off of his shirt.

“Hey, it was bound to happen sooner or later,” Dean grinned.

“You know, you show up here all cheerful and shit, eating donuts instead of telling me how unhealthy they are, and you have more marks on your neck...”

“Too bad I keep my private life private.”

“I never knew you had a private life.”

“That’s why they call it private, Bobby,” Dean smiled. “Let’s get a look at these knock off files. I have a bad feeling about this one.”

“You just don’t want to go street level.”

“No, I don’t,” Dean said seriously, looking Bobby in the eye. “Maybe it’s been awhile for you, I don’t know, we’ve never talked about it. But the streets are different ballgame and one that I’d rather sit out.”

“Sometimes I don’t get you, kid.”

“That’s probably a good thing. Now let’s get started on the case file.”

\-------------------------

“I don’t understand, Winchester,” the Sergeant shook his head and leaned back in his chair. “I’ve got guys who have been on the force a hell of a lot longer than you who would be begging for the chance to go UC on something like this.”

“Then let them go UC,” Dean said, looking him in the eye. “I know that I’m not being cocky when I say that I am strong undercover, but it’s not my thing.”

“You aren’t meant for a desk job.”

“Maybe not, but it’s where I want to be,” Dean sighed. “This case, it got dropped on Singer’s desk and so it’s ours. If somebody has to go street level and pretend like he gives a shit about a Chanel label, better me than him. I’m not saying that I won’t do it, I’m just saying that I don’t know if it’s the direction we need to go.”

“We don’t really have a choice here. We need somebody to figure this shit out street level, and you’re the best we’ve got.”

“I’m the best from Organized.”

“No, I’m guessing that you’re the best. Now we have a few locations that need to be checked out. You need to find an ‘in’. We need to get to this sweat shop. We’re thinking that there’s more than just knock offs involved.”

Dean took a deep breath and tried not to look annoyed, “If that’s the case then why not Vice or the DEA?”

“Because we don’t know for sure that they’re pushing or prostituting. We do know that they are slinging fakes, so for the time being, it’s yours. If you find us a good lead, we’ll pull you.”

Dean ran his hands down his face, “Okay, tell me when and where and I’ll throw on some plain clothes. You’re going to have to give me one hell of a hook because I have no idea why a guy like me would give a shit about purses.”

\-------------------------

_“I know that you’ll stick around until your minions are done pleasing their slave driving boss. However, there’s a guy in a very small apartment who would love some company. Up to you, I understand if you can’t make it work.”_

Dean hit send and pulled out his notebook. He’d already filled almost an entire one just about his time with Cas. Some days he thought of it as a possible relationship, other days he wondered if it was an experiment. Either way, there was something inside of him that was calmed by Cas’s presence. He knew that he’d changed after that night in Oakland. But somehow when he was with Cas, the memories and the pain, they didn’t defeat him. Cas made him feel human, and he didn’t always know what to do with that.

_“My minions can suck it up and deal with it. Call it a test. If the head chef isn’t happy, then their asses are on the line (I have to admit that I do laugh a little when I type out ‘head chef’). Hot cop beats out power trip in the kitchen. Overpriced condo? Or small apartment with a pissed off dog?”_

Dean smiled, _“Okay, that pissed off dog thing was a low blow. Now I just feel like a neglectful animal parent. But, I’ll put my fate in your hands. Does my alarm go off in a small apartment? Or does my alarm go off in an overpriced condo?”_

_“Either way, your alarm sucks. But, give me until 9:30ish and meet me at the overpriced condo. Tell Balty that I said sorry, but he’s just going to have to survive a night without you.”_

_“9:30 at the overpriced condo it is. I’ll have a heart to heart with Balty, maybe he’ll understand.”_

Dean set his phone on the coffee table and jumped in the shower and unwittingly choosing clothes that showed off his physique. There was no way of knowing that he and Cas would have that same conversation almost every day. Balthazar either slept in front of Dean’s closed bedroom door when he was locked out, or on the couch when Dean was gone.

\-------------------------

His swagger, his good looks and charm, that’s what he’d always used to get what he wanted. But, it wasn’t going to work this time. A charismatic low-life, contemptible and shady. He didn’t know which bothered him more, that he had to act the part or that he was so good at it.

He hated slowly wandering through shops that reeked of cheap incense, picking up the poorly made purses and wallets, waiting for his ‘in’. He knew that the story about knowing a distributor, somebody who could get them the same pieces from overseas for a better price, was weak. He finally offended the right person when he said that his contact had higher quality items for sale. There was a reason they were so defensive when it came to their workmanship, and he needed to find it.

He sought comfort in pouring drinks and listening to bad music, knowing that before his shift was over he would see that familiar outline at the end of the bar. There was quiet contentment in the late night dinners that were shared over a glass or two of scotch. He could lose himself in gentle hands and a desperate mouth, supple skin covered in a fine sheen of sweat pressing against his own. He found peace in the body that was held against his as he fell asleep.

\-------------------------

“I know you have the whole can’t talk about your job thing going on, but sometimes your eyes…”

“What?” Dean turned his head from where it was resting on Cas’s stomach.

“I don’t know, you look worn out. Some nights you can’t hide the misery, no matter how hard you try. I get that you can’t say anything. Hell, I’m not even supposed to know that you’re running the streets in plain clothes. It’s just...how do they expect you to do it? How do they expect you to do something that is so fucking exhausting, but keep it all in?”

“Well, I can talk about it to one of them. But, we both know that I won’t. You know things about me, Cas, things that nobody else knows. Nobody on the force understands why I want to sit at a desk, and I’m not going to explain myself to them. This case falls under our jurisdiction and it’s either me or Bobby doing the dirty work. I wish that I could say I’ve had a huge break and I’ll be back at my desk tomorrow, but it’s a slow process. It fucking sucks, but this one isn’t dangerous. Being in this position, sometimes it reminds me why I wanted to join the force, and sometimes it makes me wonder if I should have walked away. There’s a lack of humanity out there and it doesn’t matter if you just push papers, eventually you see it. Worn out, defeated, broken...I’m all of those things, but I was this way before this case file was ever dropped on our desk. Not to get heavy, but the fact that somebody even notices that I’m worn out, it keeps me going. It somehow balances out the depravity that I see. My faith in humanity is tenuous at best, but it’s still there.”

“Please, do not give me credit for any of that,” Cas smiled, reaching down to run his fingers through Dean’s hair. “I can’t think of the last time that somebody considered me nice, or pleasant, or even helpful. I’ve worked hard to be the antithesis of those very qualities.”

“Well, then you’re doing a pretty shitty job of it,” Dean grinned, crawling up the bed. “At least when you’re alone with that bartender/cop guy that you seem to spend a lot of time with.”

“Well, he has special clearance,” Cas said softly.

“Special clearance?” Dean murmured, running his lips across Cas’s collarbone.

“The things that guy can do with his hands and his mouth…”

“Such as?” Dean asked quietly, stripping them of their boxers and settling between Cas’s legs. He intertwined their fingers and held Cas’s hands against the mattress, bending down to trap him in a deep kiss.

“I think you get the idea,” Cas moaned against his lips as their bodies started to rock. He was at Dean’s mercy. Dean’s strong arms holding his hands down, his toned body pressing Cas’s to the bed, his hot mouth sucking and nipping. It was nights like this, when Dean’s hard cock was pressed against his stomach, that he wanted to feel it inside of him. He knew that they still weren’t there yet, but he didn’t doubt that someday they would be. He wasn’t letting Dean go, and he wasn’t giving Dean up. There was a vulnerability that he knew Dean only let him see. There was a quiet strength and sense of honor, but a cocky grin with a quick wit. His shoulders were burning, his hands going numb against Dean’s grip. The aggression, the passion, the throbbing against him. His thighs were tense when he arched his body and cried out, begging Dean to come. He heard the loud groan and felt Dean’s forehead rest against his shoulder while his hips slowly rocked. He loosened his grip and relaxed, letting their bodies meld. Cas ran his hands up Dean’s spine, his fingers tingling. They kissed softly until Dean rolled on his back, both of their chests still heaving. Cas smiled when he felt Dean reach for his hand and pull it to his lips.

Cas knew that the water needed to be hot. He knew that Dean needed to feel clean. Not because of the sex, because of his job. It was taking a toll on him. Cas had stopped second guessing himself, he’d stop wondering why Dean’s well being meant so much to him. It just did and he didn’t question it. He found something in Dean that he’d never found before, and he was letting it happen. Dean wasn’t his world, he wasn’t his everything, but he didn’t know if he could fall asleep without the scent of Dean’s skin and the feeling of his hard body. Dean Winchester was slowly turning his life upside down.

\-------------------------

“What’s with the funeral director get up?”

“I have a meeting with the big dogs. You know that they expect me to look respectable,” Dean smiled at Bobby. 

“You getting anywhere with this shit?”

“You should probably read the reports, Bobby.”

“Aw, but then I wouldn’t get to spend this quality time with you, sunshine,” Bobby grinned. 

Dean just smirked as he took a sip of his coffee and checked his watch. “Time for the meeting. Want to sit in?”

“Now why in the hell would I want to sit in?”

“It’s not just my case. Remember that when you sit and go through that fucking file, I might eventually need back up. It’s looking like we’re going to hand this over to Vice or DEA, but you need to be ready. If I need help on the street, they’ll come looking for you.”

“I’m too old…”

“It doesn’t fucking matter. We are partners and they will come to you. Now, I think I have a lead, possibly a strong one, but I can’t do it alone. Yes, we’ll bring in an armed unit, but they will ask you to be there. You need to be ready. So I’ll ask again, do you want to sit in?”

“Shit, I might as well. So you think that you made a break?”

“I fucking hope so,” Dean sighed. “I’d hate to think that all of this time spent dealing with these slimy fucks was for nothing. I want this shit to go down, and I want it to go down soon.”

“Vice or DEA?”

Dean sighed. “I almost don’t want to know. I just want this shit done.”

“You’ve got some demons, kid.”

“You have no fucking idea. Let’s just get this meeting over with so that I can get out of this suit.”

\-------------------------

“Holy shit,” Dean panted, watching Cas tuck his limp cock back in his pants. “The head chef in the walk in cooler? It almost seems cliche.”

“You showed up for lunch in that suit,” Cas smiled. “It’s not my fault that I couldn’t resist.”

“Okay, I get that, but shouldn’t I have been the one giving the blow job if the suit turns you on?”

“We still have time,” Cas winked. “Actually, we just need to figure out how to sneak out of here without my staff catching on. Somebody might consider a blow job in the cooler unprofessional.”

“Just tell them that you were giving me a tour of the kitchen,” Dean grinned.

“And spent a little extra time in the walk in cooler?”

“Hey, the quality of your produce is important to a customer.”

“You’ve never paid a dime for any of this food,” Cas smiled, pulling Dean to him for a long kiss.

“Oh, and that’s going to help to stop them from asking questions?”

“Most days I don’t care.”

“Today?” Dean smiled.

“At the moment I don’t really care. Sexy green eyed cop shows up in a suit....”

“Your sous also knows me as the bartender at The Shoreline.”

“That just makes it a more interesting story,” Cas winked. “Now do you want lunch or what?”

“I could definitely use something to eat now,” Dean grinned, pulling Cas to him for another soft kiss. “Just as long as there…”

“Are no tomatoes. I know. Go sit at the staff table a give me a few minutes.”

\-------------------------

“So you really think that this case might be just a bad memory soon?” Cas raised his eyebrows.

“God, I’m hoping so. It’s been months and I’m so sick of this shit.”

Cas desperately wanted to look into those beautiful green eyes and see peace. “So, uh, does Balty need some steak tips? I haven’t seen him in a few days.”

“He’d love some,” Dean grinned. “I swear the only reason he doesn’t scratch at the bedroom door is because you fucking spoil him.”

“Or because he hears your happy noises,” Cas winked. “I do my best to take care of both of you.”

“So you’ll be by after you close?”

“With dinner,” Cas smiled.

“I’ll leave the door unlocked. Just walk in.”

It wasn’t long before they exchanged house keys.

\-------------------------

Dean was wired, he had a gps tracker on him, he was carrying two guns, but his stomach was still churning. He’d finally gotten one of them to believe his story, he hated that he’d been so convincing. When he’d slipped in that he was open to other levels of distribution, he’d opened pandora’s box. The guy claimed that he had the best product, China White like Dean had never experienced before. This guy knew that the way to impress a possible partner was to offer him a sample. This was now under the DEA’s jurisdiction, but so far, he’d done the leg work and earned the trust. They weren’t ready to pull him. Dean knew that all it would take was one push of the button on his phone and the heavily armed unit down the street would come looking, but timing was everything. If the drugs were kept in the sweatshop, if he could see proof of prostitution or human trafficking, they would have a solid case. He needed to tread lightly and not spook anyone. He knew that the poor girls, who had probably been brought to the states with the promise of a good job, had been taught that the police were the enemy and they would be afraid of being locked up. They wouldn’t understand that they were, in fact, being rescued. 

It was like a scene from every cop show that had ever existed. The slow wander down the alley, the heavy steel door, a dark hallway leading into the bowels of a warehouse. He looked around at the thick concrete, the steel beams, and hoped like hell his tracker would throw a good enough signal if the time came. 

His eyes stung with tears when he saw row after row of women, some nothing more than girls, sitting at sewing machines. The smell of unclean flesh and human waste was suffocating and sickening. The guy just turned and gave him a proud smile, “These ladies didn’t come cheap. We had them brought over a few at a time.”

“Wow,” Dean tried to look impressed. “You’re a hell of a lot smarter than the guy I know. He waits for the product to show up and hopes that the shit looks legit.”

“We’ve got a couple of guys who travel, mostly Thailand and Cambodia. You flash a little money at the families, and the girls are all yours. It’s getting them here that’s the hard part. But, you eventually get a return on the investment. And, when we’re lucky we get a couple of hot ones.”

“Ah, you like the Asian girls?” Dean raised his eyebrows.

“Not for personal use, no. But, they come in handy. You set a guy up with enough dope, I figure it’s nice to throw in a couple of party favors for an hour or two. You know, just to show my appreciation. I try to keep it off the streets. Customers only for the most part. Let me know if you want a sample of that too.” The friendly smile was unnerving.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Dean felt like he was going to vomit. That night in Oakland he’d seen what he thought was true evil, the ugliness that was humanity, but this...this was a whole different side that he’d never come face to face with. They had enough info from his wire to pass it off now, but he couldn’t turn tail and run, not yet. He needed to see it, he needed to be able to make a positive identification and statement that this was more than a sweatshop. All he could think about was getting home and into a hot shower. He didn’t know that he’d ever feel clean. They went into a small office and shut the door.

“Uh, Jeremy, these are a few of my guys. You don’t really need to know who they are, you’ll be dealing strictly with me. They just like to sit around in my office instead of getting off their lazy asses and doing their job.” The speech was followed by a pointed look at the men who were lounging around. 

The department had initially set him up to use the name John, but he couldn’t do it. That was his father’s name, and too typical sounding. In the beginning he’d had to remind himself to answer to Jeremy. Now, even if he was off the clock and he heard it, he automatically turned around. 

“Take a seat.”

Dean sat in a hard wooden chair on one side of a large desk and tried to look comfortable. He glanced around the room cautiously. It was littered with overfilled ashtrays, beer cans and liquor bottles, needles and tourniquets, glass pipes and lighters, condom wrappers. Dean felt his stomach churn and tighten. He watched the small baggie drop on the desk in front of him. “Sample size,” the man smiled. He took out a mirror, glass pipe, spoon, lighter, and needle. “I don’t know how you take it, but I’ve got all of the tools for an old school high.”

“I don’t really use, I just sell the shit, man.”

“Oh come on,” the man frowned. “You’re willing to take product without knowing the quality? I can tell by looking at you that you are no angel. I can also tell that you can probably take it or leave it. One taste isn’t going to put you back on the horse. Take your jacket off and roll up your sleeve.”

Dean could feel the tension. The holster had his gun pressed against his ribs and might go unnoticed under the baggy flannel shirt that he was wearing. He turned and watched one of the junkies shoot up on the couch and smile when he slumped sideways. He could smell the burning of the glass pipes. Somehow he’d found his way into a small impromptu party. Everyone wanted a piece of the sample. He dropped his jacket and reached for his phone. He hit the button and slid it back into his pocket. He moved slowly, he knew that he couldn’t take on this many guys. He’d made a big mistake when he assumed that they would be alone in the office. He unbuttoned his sleeve with shaking hands.

“Been awhile?”

“Uh, yeah. A few years actually,” he tried to keep his voice level.

“Nick, help him out, tie him off.”

Time wasn’t moving when he was grabbed from behind and his sleeve was roughly shoved up his arm. He felt the tourniquet tighten around his bicep, and saw the bubbling liquid in the spoon. 

“Hand me a needle and some cotton.”

He could feel the bile rise up his throat. If he struggled, they would kill him and he knew it. “Seriously, I’m fine,” he tried to chuckle. “I’m not here for the party, just to pick up some product.”

“Then you’d be the only guy who’s worked with me without trying it.”

Dean heard, he hoped he heard, noise moving down the hall.

“He’s got a gun.”

“Of course I’ve got a gun. In this line of work I’d be a dumbass just asking to be blown away. I mean, you guys all carry, right?” He felt his voice quiver and tried to even it out. He was waiting for them to make him, to call him out, he was waiting for the end. The first blow knocked him back, tipping the chair. He landed hard on the floor, his head bouncing on the concrete.

“He’s a fucking cop!!”

He tried to stand and took another hit. He swung and finally felt his fist make contact with flesh and bone. It turned into a street fight before he could reach for his gun. He felt the strong hands wrap around his throat and it took all of his strength to roll on his side, pushing the junkie off balance. It felt like a lifetime since he had hit the panic button, he was starting to wonder if he even had a signal. He was waiting for the inevitable click of a round sliding into the chamber while he wrestled and tried to keep himself from fading out. He knew that he’d taken a hard hit, hard enough to make him sick and dizzy. He had to keep his eyes open, he needed to keep it together. He finally got to his knees and was kicked backwards, breaking liquor bottles and knocking over ashtrays. He didn't know if it was one or more, but it was a brawl. He could feel the blood running down his face after his forehead had slammed into somebody else’s. His knuckles were raw and bloody. His head was picked up and dropped against the floor, the sharp blade of a knife skimmed across his neck as he rolled away. He was losing it, everything was blurry and he could barely hear over the white noise in his head. He was still waiting for the click that would end him. He heard a loud bang and looked up in time to see the armed unit. He started to yell when the man pulled a revolver and turned towards Bobby. He reached for the gun holstered against his side and lined up for the kill shot. The sound was deafening when he pulled the trigger, and everything went black.

\-------------------------

“Holy shit, did you hear about the bust?”

Cas turned and looked at his sous chef, “No. Unlike you, I showed up to work on time. What bust?”

“Some warehouse raid. Drugs, hookers, some type of sweatshop deal. The news didn’t have a whole lot of info. All they said was that there were shots fired and injuries reported. That buddy of yours is a cop isn’t he? The bartender at The Shoreline? Maybe he knows the story.”

Cas felt the blood drain from his face and he started to tremble. “I’m going to make a quick phone call. Everything is set up if you want to check the time on that prime rib. I’ll be right back.”

Cas went out the back door and leaned against the building, hitting the call button on his phone. “Come on, come on, fucking answer…” he muttered. “God damn voicemail!” He tried again, and again got voicemail. He knew that he needed to get back into the kitchen. It was Friday night and they were booked. He made one last effort, again he got voicemail. “Hey, it’s Cas. So, I just heard that some pretty heavy shit went down and when you know a cop, you’re contractually obligated to call and make sure that everything is okay. I really hope that you’re either passed out on your couch or sitting at your desk staring at Bobby right now. Give me a call back.” He slid his phone in his pocket and tilted his head back. “Fuck!”

\-------------------------

The ER staff was doing everything that they could to keep him awake. He was in and out. He heard different voices and knew that they were moving him from room to room, place to place. They finally stopped and he felt his body being shifted onto a bed. Bobby was there, he could hear his voice, and he hung onto it, trying to respond. The back of his head was pounding from where he’d hit the floor. He felt the tugging of sutures closing a large cut above his eye, an eye that was swollen and throbbing. He felt the stitches that ran from his jawline almost to his collarbone. He tried to take a deep breath and felt the sharp pain. He heard, “concussion, cracked ribs, multiples cuts and contusions, almost severed a main artery.” He felt them swab his hands, it took him a moment to realize that they were looking for remnants of gunpowder. They needed to know if he’d discharged his firearm. It finally became quiet and the lights were dimmed.

“You okay there, kid?”

“Well, I can’t sit up or see straight. I’ve got a heart monitor stuck to my chest, a blood pressure cuff wrapped around my arm, and an IV in the back of my hand. I don’t know if that qualifies as okay,” He groaned quietly. “What happened, Bobby? I remember bits and pieces…”

“A lot of shit happened. They’re going to want a statement from you. A long fucking statement. They’ve done a shitload of tests and scans and it looks like you’re going to be okay. The doc said that they need to keep you overnight. We’ll see if they’ll release you in the morning to go to the station, or if the big dogs will show up here. Either way, you’ve got to give them those bits and pieces.”

“The wire?”

“We’ve got it and it’s incriminating as hell, but they want to talk to you.”

.“Now do you get why I don’t like this undercover bullshit?”

“I got it before you ever put the plain clothes on.”

“I just need to sleep…” Dean whispered, trailing off.

\-------------------------

He opened his eyes, one still badly swollen, and looked around. He saw his phone and his clothes sitting on the stand next to the bed and he reached for it.

“Sorry kid, but you can’t use your phone. Not until we’re released from the case,” Bobby said quietly. “It’s still considered active and you can’t let anyone know that you were there, not yet. All you can do is hope that your family wasn’t watching the news and that they don’t put two and two together and see that Organized Crime might have played a part in this. I’ll grab you something to eat and one of those fancy coffees that you like.”

“How long have I been out?”

“five, maybe six hours. The doctor said it was fine to let you sleep for a little while. They gave you some pretty strong painkillers.”

“And you’ve been here the whole time?”

“It’s the least I could do, you saved my life kid. Now let me go grab you that food and coffee and then we’ll work on getting you out of here.”

\-------------------------

Cas let his staff clean up and he rushed to Dean’s apartment complex. His ‘67 Impala wasn’t in his parking spot. He ran up the stairs and let himself in. He found a very embarrassed Balty and a puddle of pee in the kitchen. “Better the linoleum than the carpet,” he said quietly, cleaning it up. He took the grateful dog outside and went back in the apartment to give him food and water. Nothing had been moved or changed since he’d kissed Dean at the door and they went their separate ways that morning. 

_“I’m at your place, you obviously haven’t been home yet. I feel a little like a psycho stalker at this point. I’m heading back to my condo. Call me or text me when you can.”_ he hit send and scratched Balty behind the ears, pulling the door closed and locking it.

\-------------------------

“You’ve got the files from the last few months, don’t tell me that we need to go back over that shit.”

“No, Dean. We just need a statement about what happened in the last 36 hours and then maybe fill in some blank spots for the DEA and Vice.”

Dean was exhausted. He and Bobby had finally convinced the doctors that he was okay to leave and went straight to the station. He still felt sick as he sat in an interrogation room, answering what questions he could. He was trembling and could feel the coffee rise back up in his throat after every sip. 

“Okay, well it looks like we’ve got enough info for the time being, but I’m pretty sure that they aren’t done with you. So, four weeks administrative leave and we’ll need to schedule the psych eval.”

“The what?”

“Psychological evaluation? They’re required any time a perp gets shot. It’s no big deal, they just make sure that you were in the correct frame of mind when it happened. We’ll meet again in a few weeks and go over your file. Go home and get some rest. I’ll have someone get in touch with you to get that eval set up.”

Dean stood up and shook the sergeant’s hand before walking slowly out of the office. He found Bobby in the parking lot waiting for him. “Do you want me to follow you home?”

“Nah, I’m good. But thanks.”

“No need to thank me. You gonna be okay? I don’t want you driving if you still feel fucked up.”

Dean pulled his keys out of his pocket and leaned against his car. The sun had already come up, but he had no idea what time it was. He wasn’t really sure what day it was. “Yeah, I mean I feel like shit and everything is kind of a blur right now. But I’m fine. Apparently I qualify for a four week vacation and a meeting with a shrink.”

“Okay well, get some rest,” Bobby said quietly, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “If you need anything, just call.”

“Thanks Bobby,” Dean smiled slightly as he got in his car.

\-------------------------

He was surprised when he saw that Balty hadn’t made a mess. He took him outside and filled his bowls. He covered his sutures and stood in the shower until the water turned cold. He put what clothes the hospital hadn’t cut off or that the department hadn’t kept into a garbage bag to be thrown away, even his workboots. He plugged in his dead phone and saw the three missed calls, a voicemail, and the text. “Shit!” He didn’t realize that it had been blasted all over the news. He hit redial after listening to the message.

\-------------------------

“Dean?”

“Hey,” Dean’s voice was raspy and exhausted.

“So it was you?”

“Yeah, I was there. Right in the middle of the action,” Dean leaned back on the couch, comforted by the sound of Cas’s voice.

“But you’re okay?”

“That all depends on how you define okay. I’ve been better, but I’ve been worse. Everyone keeps telling me to just sleep it off.”

“Well, I can let you go so that you can…”

“Lay awake and stare at the ceiling?” 

“Do you want me to stop by?”

“You have to be at work in a few hours.”

“We’re not talking about my work schedule, Dean. I have a few hours, do you want me to stop by?”

“Yeah,” Dean finally said quietly, after a long pause.

\------------------------- 

Dean had taken a second shower once the water heater had refilled and was laying on the couch in pajama pants, pale and trembling, when Cas showed up. Cas dropped his jacket and work clothes on the floor and climbed on the couch behind Dean, gently wrapping his arms around him. The bandages, the stitches, the bruises, it was overwhelming.

“God Dean, what did they do to you? I’m guessing that you can’t talk about it.”

“I’m okay, Cas,” Dean said quietly, moving his body closer. “I’m not supposed to talk about it, but who are you going to tell? We were investigating a possible sweatshop. You know, bring young Asian girls to the states with the promise of a lot of money to be made and then sit them at a sewing machine for 18 hours a day. And if that wasn’t enough, the scumbag was dealing drugs and prostitutes as well. I wanted to pass it off to Vice or DEA, but I couldn’t until I had solid proof. I knew, we all knew, but this guy was pro. He knew what to say to stay under the radar. He finally believed me, I was fucking lowlife scum and he let me into his world. Fucked up, seriously fucked up. He wanted me to try some of his product. I knew that if I didn’t follow him, he would make me and kill me. So I waited for the fucking cavalry and tried to buy time. I got in a good old fashioned brawl when one of his lackeys saw my gun. I was getting my ass kicked when the armed unit showed up. I blacked out after that. I was in and out of it, I only really remember bits and pieces. It’s still a blur. Concussion, cracked ribs, you can see the shit that he did to my face and the knife to my throat. I had to put in 24 hours at the hospital. They wanted me to stay longer, but somehow Bobby talked them into letting me go. I left there and sat at the station answering questions that I didn’t really have answers to. They want to do a psych eval because I guess I discharged my firearm...”

“Are you supposed to work at The Shoreline tonight?”

“No. I already told them to pass my shift. We were hoping that this bust would go down this weekend. Don’t you have brunch to serve?”

“If you’re trying to get rid of me, it’s not going to work. I have a little time. My team can deal with it if I’m late. We serve the same fucking thing every weekend. It’s not rocket science.”

Cas held Dean’s trembling body until it relaxed and he listened to the soft snore until it was time for him to leave. He gently moved off of the couch and changed into his work clothes in the bathroom. He looked at the marks and bruises on the beautiful face before he bent down and pressed his lips to Dean’s forehead.

\-------------------------

Dean was in the kitchen when he heard the door open. “I’m in here,” he called out.

“Should you be up and moving around?”

“I’m fine.” Dean started to smile when he watched Cas walk towards him, but he stopped when he saw the look in Cas’s eyes. He watched Cas set the food on the counter and felt his arms wrap around him, holding him tightly enough to remind him that his ribs were cracked.

“Are you sure?” Cas questioned, resting his chin on Dean’s shoulder. “I mean when they said your name on the news, I had no idea. I get why you didn’t say anything, and we still don’t have to talk about it…”

“Wait, what?” Dean pulled away, confused and lost. He walked into the living room and picked up the remote. He hadn’t had the TV on all day.

“...heroin, prostitution, as well as human trafficking. Police have stated that it was the largest such ring in the Pacific Northwest. The ringleader was shot and killed by officer Dean Winchester…”

Dean dropped the remote and turned to Cas. “Wait, that guy was pointing his gun at Bobby. I remember pulling the trigger but…has this shit gone national?”

“I don’t know. If it hasn’t it yet, it probably will,” Cas said quietly.

Dean picked up his phone. “Bobby, hey it’s me. There are some blank spots that I need filled in. Did I...so that’s what you meant when you told me that I saved your life...No, I don’t really remember. I know that I should. I mean, I remember watching him aim and I remember pulling the trigger but it all went black. Why didn’t anybody say anything?...Well, now I get the psych eval. I fucking killed somebody...I know that he was a scumball and that the world is better off...Don’t thank me Bobby, you would have done the same...No, I’m okay. I just saw it on the news and I guess I wasn’t ready for it to be blasted like that. Do you know if it’s gone national?...Okay, well I’ve got some family to call. Thanks Bobby...I’d be more than happy to let you buy me dinner, but that might start rumors at the station...I know I’m a smartass, but it’s part of my charm...You take care too.”

Dean turned around and stared at Cas, sinking on the couch and dialing his parent’s phone number. “Hey mom, I’m sorry if I woke you up. I’m guessing that you haven’t seen it or you would have called but we just had a big case blow up and, uh, my name is in the news...No, I’m fine. A little battered and bruised, but fine. I, uh..shit, I don’t even know how to say it,” Dean took a deep shuddering breath. “I shot a guy. He was aiming a gun at my partner and I killed him...No, I’m okay. I walked away with a couple of bumps and bruises, nothing serious. I just knew if you saw it before you talked to me you’d freak out...Four weeks of paid administrative leave while they investigate...No, I’m not in any trouble. I saved another officer in the line of duty...Yeah, I know...Seriously mom, I am fine. I’m just getting ready to eat something and watch a movie. Regular life...Of course I’ll take care of myself and get plenty of sleep...I would come out there but they don’t want me to leave the state during an investigation. It just gives me plenty of time to sleep in and get caught up on movies I’ve wanted to watch and books I’ve wanted to read...No, you don’t need to come here. Really, I’m fine....I love you too...Okay, I promise that I will call every day until things go back to normal...Goodnight mom.” 

Dean hung up the phone and dropped his head. Cas went to him and knelt between his knees. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, no, I don’t know. They said something about needing a psych eval because a perp got shot, I didn’t put it together. I didn’t think that I’d actually killed a guy.”

“He was a piece of shit who was trafficking women, girls. He was going to kill your partner and he tried to kill you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean said quietly. “You’re right, about all of it. But I don’t know how to feel about it.”

“You feel how you feel. Right now, you’re numb, which is probably what you should be. I know that I promised I’d never bring it up, but you know how it would have felt to see Bobby die by the hand of somebody like that. You’ve been there, and this time you stopped it. You saved your partner’s life. Your job, it’s fucked up. I get why you sit at a desk, but shit like this comes with the territory.” Cas reached for Dean’s hand and Dean lifted his head, locking gazes. It was broken by the sound of Dean’s phone.

“Sam, hey...I figured that she would...Nah, I’m okay...I’m a cop and this shit happens...Four weeks of paid leave...Really, I’m fine. I walked away with barely a scratch...No, I can’t really talk about it...Seriously, just bumps and bruises. Tell Jess and the kids that I said hello...I’ll talk to you later.”

He dropped his phone on the coffee table and leaned back against the couch. “It’s not a big deal, right? I killed a guy, but he deserved it. I had no other choice.”

“Exactly,” Cas said, running his hands softly up Dean’s legs. Dean was sensitive, Dean was vulnerable, and he could see the part of Dean that was tormented. “Are you hungry?”

“Uh yeah,” Dean said, slowly running his hands up his face, avoiding the sutures. He leaning forward to kiss Cas. “Let’s eat.”

\-------------------------

Dean spent the next few days mindlessly watching movies and sleeping. Cas showed up every night with dinner and scraps for Balty. Some nights they would talk, but never about the warehouse bust. They talked about everything and nothing. Cas even got Dean to laugh a few times. Some nights they would just lay together and silently thank the other for being there. Dean’s bruises, his stitches, the large bandage around his body to hold his ribs in place made Cas cringe, but he didn’t want Dean to see it. He’d promised months ago that he would never pity Dean, and he stuck to that promise. As the days went on, The bruises started to fade and the bandage around his ribs came off.

\-------------------------

Dean was almost desperate, he was full of nervous energy. Cas could feel it in his hands and his mouth as they moved across his body. “How are your ribs?”

“They feel okay, why?” Dean murmured. 

“What about your head and your neck?”

“I’m fine. Why?”

“I want you inside of me.”

“What?” Dean asked quietly, sitting up. 

“I want you inside of me. If you’re in too much pain...”

“It’s not about my ribs or my neck. I don’t want to hurt you”

“You’ve used your fingers before. Go slow and don’t worry about hurting me. I want this. I’ve wanted it for awhile. Please…”

“I...I can’t, Cas. Not with you, not tonight. If I see pain on your face…”

“Dean, I know it will hurt, a part of me wants it to. I can’t explain it, I just know that I need to feel you.” Cas slid the pillows under his hips and spread his legs. “Where’s the lube?”

Dean silently reached for the bottle in the nightstand and turned off the lamp. Cas wanted this, he knew that for some reason Cas needed this, but he couldn’t see pain in Cas’s eyes. It would break him. He hesitated, but took a deep breath and slipped a finger inside of Cas, letting his other hand roam his chest, his stomach, stopping to gently caress the silky skin of his shaft. Even though it was already dark, he closed his eyes and tried to let go of the last couple of days. He pictured Cas’s body, those blue eyes. He thought about the way Cas’s hands moved across his skin and finally felt his own need. He found it with the second finger, the smooth spot that took Cas’s breath away and made the pain of the third finger almost bearable. Cas gasped at every inch when Dean slid himself slowly inside, running his hands down Cas’s thighs and across his stomach to relax him before wrapping his fingers around his cock. Cas lifted his hips, meeting the gentle thrusts while Dean stroked, finally letting go, pressing their bodies together. Their mouths met in a deep kiss, soft moans and whimpers escaping Cas’s chest. The velvet friction, the indescribable pleasure inside of him mixed with the burning pain, it was intense and he was already there. He spread his legs wide and arched his body, calling out Dean’s name. “I’m right there too,” Dean moaned when Cas slid his trembling thighs against his hips. He buried himself deep and came hard with a loud groan. Their hearts were pounding as their bodies melded, Dean panting against Cas’s neck. He finally held himself up on his elbows and searched for those blue eyes in the dark. “Are you okay?”

“At the moment? Better than okay. Far better than okay. Ask me a few hours when I try to sit down and you might get a different story,” Cas smiled.

“Cas, I didn’t…”

“Dean, it’s what I wanted. It’s what we both needed, and in all honesty it was amazing. Better than I expected. I just needed to feel close to you, I don’t know, I can’t explain it…”

“No, I know. I do,” Dean smiled, pressing their foreheads together. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“For what?”

“For everything. For calling me three times, texting me, coming to my apartment to see if I was here. For cleaning up after Balty and taking care of him. For showing up because you knew that if you climbed on that couch with me I’d be able to fall asleep. For being with me so that I didn’t have to see it on the news alone.”

“What about the hot sex?”

“I was getting to it,” Dean grinned, pressing their lips together. “But it’s not just about that.”

“I know it isn’t,” Cas said with a lazy smile, running his hands up Dean’s back. “I’m relieved that you weren’t alone when you saw the news or when you made the phone calls. I don’t know what I mean to you or where I fit, and we don’t need to have that discussion. I mean something, and that’s what matters.” His kissed Dean softly. “I was scared, I was so fucking scared when my sous came in and told me that something big had happened and then I couldn’t get a hold of you. It was probably the worst fucking prime rib that The Cliffs has ever served because I just wanted to be here. My staff thinks that I’m losing it because I made them listen to the news on the radio. The uglier the story got, the worse I felt. I needed you close, I needed you inside of me. I need to see something other than exhaustion and defeat in your eyes. I don’t want to see the self loathing. I know that a part of you feels like you did something wrong. You didn’t, Dean. You saved a life, shit you saved a lot of lives. You need to remember that. Think about those girls. You gave them freedom. That’s all you. People are alive, eating hot meals, in warm beds, all because of you. That’s so fucking honorable and I need you to see it that way.” Cas could feel the tears welling up. “I need you to be okay, really okay and not just the bullshit that you feed your family so that they’ll feel better. I don’t know what this is. Shit, I’ve asked myself, I’ve questioned myself, I’ve second guessed myself. Why was I drawn to you the first time you ever talked to me? I have no idea, but I was. And then one night I was watching you pouring drinks at the bar and I realized that when your shift was over, you were going home with me. If those cocktail waitresses knew, they would hate me because I was the one you called the next day. You didn’t get dressed and sneak out of bed. You sat in the kitchen and ate breakfast. I trusted my sous to finish off a prime rib because I couldn’t think straight. All I fucking wanted was to hear your voice. That’s all. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Okay, I’m getting way too heavy here, and I’m sorry. You have enough to deal with. You don’t need the guy you’re messing around with to start going off…”

“Is that really what you think”

“What?”

“That you’re just the guy I’m messing around with?” Dean gently slid his fingers down the side of Cas’s face. “Because I don’t see it that way. When I got home from the station I made one call. I needed you to know that I was okay. I was going to call sooner, but they wouldn’t let me. You are the only person who can come close to understanding how I feel right now, how torn I am. Why I took that uniform off and took a desk job. Why I took my clothes off when I got home and threw them away. You get it, I don’t have to explain it. You’re not just the guy I’m messing around with. Friends with benefits? I can live with that, but I want you to know that I’m not looking for benefits anywhere else. I have no interest. I want you, and only you, and it makes no sense to me at all.”

“It doesn’t have to make sense,” Cas smiled. “I’m not looking anywhere else either. Now, let’s get this mess cleaned up and crawl back in this bed. I have to feed the pompous masses tomorrow morning.”

Dean kissed him one last time before rolling on his back and crawling out of bed. He covering his sutures and led Cas into the shower. He’d taken two or three hot showers every day since the incident at the warehouse, and he was still trying to feel clean. 

\-------------------------

Dean rolled over and groaned, pulling Cas to him. He knew he needed to let go and let Cas get ready for work, but he didn’t want to be alone.

“You should come by the restaurant today.”

“And spend a day’s pay for eggs benedict and those juice mixed with champagne drinks?”

“Rachel’s working, she knows you. She would give you the ‘head chef feeds me for free’ discount,” Cas smiled, rolling in Dean’s arms. “Bring Bobby, impress the hell out of him.”

“Talk about starting rumors at the station,” Dean tried to smile. “So I’m supposed to call that redneck up and ask him to brunch at The Cliffs? They may ask for more than one psych eval if I do that. Plus, look at me, Cas. I’m covered in stitches, my face is all fucked up...”

“It adds an air of mystery and danger to that disgustingly perfect face. I get it if you don’t want to go out in public yet. I really do. Maybe I’m out of line for having an opinion, but I think that right now it would be good for you to spend a little time with Bobby away from that fucking station. I don’t know him, but I’m guessing that he’s worried about you. Let him see that you are upright and able to eat. Yeah, you have bumps and bruises; a bandage on your neck and another on your forehead. For all anyone knows you were in a car accident. People with injuries are still allowed to eat. And who gives a fuck what any of those rich assholes think? It’s your call, I’m just putting the invitation out there.”

“I’ll give you a solid ‘maybe’. I know that I can’t stay in this apartment for the entire four weeks, and you’re probably right about Bobby.” 

“Well,” Cas kissed Dean softly. “I’ll let Rachel know that I’m expecting two guests. Maybe I’ll see you, maybe I won’t. Either way, it’s Sunday and we don’t serve dinner so I’m going to go ahead and assume that we will see each other later?”

“I’m pretty comfortable giving you a guarantee that you will see me at some point today,” Dean smiled.

\-------------------------

“I can’t believe you actually showed up,” Cas laughed, throwing one arm around Dean for a hug whispering, “my ass hurts, but I cannot wait to get you naked again.”

“Yeah, well who can resist an invitation like this,” Dean smiled. “I’ve been trying to convince Bobby for months that I actually have a friend.”

“Cas Novak,” Cas smiled, holding out his hand.

“Bobby Singer,” Bobby held Cas’s hand in a firm grip. “So this obnoxious son of a bitch does actually have friends.”

“When he pays me on time and the check clears,” Cas chuckled.

“I’ve convinced he’s got a girlfriend stashed somewhere, but he ain’t talking,” Bobby smiled. 

“Sorry, can’t help you there. So, I have to get back in the kitchen and make sure that nobody has started anything on fire. I can have Rachel find you a spot on the patio, it’s the best place to be this time of year when it’s not fucking raining. Eat and drink as much as you want, but let me know before you leave. I’m glad you came,” Cas grinned, giving Dean a small wink.

“I have to say, I’m a little surprised by the invite,” Bobby said, looking at Dean out of the corner of his eye when they finally sat down. 

“You did your part, you drove. I just set us up for the free meal, What? You don’t want to rub elbows with these self important assholes?”

“We don’t exactly fit in. Especially with your face all fucked up and shit, no offense.”

“None taken,” Dean smiled. “Who gives a shit about what these people think? Cas is a hell of a cook. Let’s grab some brunch that neither one of us could afford on cops wages.”

“Wait, is this where you come for lunch all of the time?”

“Yeah, why?” Dean asked.

Bobby just looked at Dean. He felt bad for the kid. He knew that the last week hadn’t been easy. Hell, the last few months hadn’t been easy. He didn’t know a thing about Dean’s time in Northern California, but he knew that the guy was damaged. He’d seen a change in Dean before he went undercover, but figured that it was too personal to mention. He didn’t want to make assumptions, he didn’t want to know that much about his partner, but he could put two and two together. The red marks, the lunches, the timing. He just shook his head and followed Dean to the buffet table as the server set their coffee down.

\-------------------------

“I’m going to let Cas know that we’re heading out.” 

Bobby just smiled contentedly and took a sip of coffee.

Rachel watched Dean walk towards the kitchen. They all had their suspicions about Chef Novak and the gorgeous cop, but they only talked amongst themselves. She thought that if the rumors were true, Chef Novak had great taste in men.

\-------------------------

“Hey,” Dean called quietly. “We’re getting ready to head out.”

“Already?”

“Unless you have something in your walk-in cooler that you want to show me,” Dean grinned.

Cas loved that grin. The way Dean’s eyes creased at the corners, his perfect teeth, how sometimes he would bite the tip of his tongue. “Nothing new, but I can give you the short tour.”

\-------------------------

They kissed deeply, Dean’s hand sliding down Cas’s pants to stroke him hard and fast.

“You are going to make me come in my pants?” Cas panted.

“Yes. But I brought napkins,” Dean smiled against his lips, undoing the button and sliding the zipper down just as Cas started throbbing. “I want to feel you come in my hand, and later tonight I have plans for you.”

“Oh yeah?” Cas whispered, biting his lip to keep from crying out when he came, trembling as Dean cleaned him up.”

“Yeah, as long as you want the company.”

“How many nights have we spent apart in the last few months?”

“I don’t know,” Dean murmured from where his lips were pressed against Cas’s neck.

“I think I could count it on one hand. Now, you should probably get back out there and save Bobby from the holier than thou masses.”

“I think he knows.”

“About us?”

“Yeah.”

“And…”

“I really don’t give a shit,” Dean shrugged, kissing Cas softly. “I know that since you don’t serve dinner tonight, there will be no scraps for Balty and I do like your bed better. No expectations, just time.”

“Not to start something heavy, but I think the time means more to you than the sex.”

“That’s not heavy, it’s real. I’ve got to get going. Do you want to come say goodbye to Bobby? You looked composed enough to be amongst the general population.”

“Well, if my man wouldn’t corner me in my own kitchen…”

“You love it,” Dean grinned, as much at the title of ‘my man’ as the idea of giving Cas a sneaky hand job at work. “One last kiss and we face the public.”

\-------------------------

Bobby was still wondering if Cas and Dean were lovers, but he didn’t ask. It’s not what he expected from his partner, but being a longtime widower himself, he knew that comfort was hard to come by. He saw relief in Dean’s eyes as they pulled away from the restaurant. “Best meal this old man has had in a long time.”

“Yeah, well I’m spoiled. I’ve actually gotten used to the food. Even my fucking dog eats steak from The Cliffs.”

Now Bobby knew. “I don’t feel like I’ve thanked you enough, kid.”

“We really don’t need to talk about it, Bobby.”

“I need you to understand…”

“Pull over.” Bobby pulled over and parked on the side of the road. “What I’m going to say stays between us and is something that we’ll never talk about again. My partner in Oakland? He died in my arms after being shot almost point blank by a hopped up scum of the earth motherfucker. I felt it happen, I watched it happen, and I wasn’t going to let it happen again. I didn’t know which way was up in that warehouse, but I saw the gun and I knew that I couldn’t go through that again. I did it as much for me as I did for you and thankfully I have somebody who has helped me to see that. Whether you like it or not, you are like a father figure to me and nothing is going to happen to you, Bobby. Not on my watch. Now when I come back, it’s business as usual. We get boring case files and we do entirely too much paperwork and pointless interviews. I bitch because Lefitte used my coffee creamer and you make cracks. You call me kid and talk down to me. That’s how I need things to be. As soon as you pull back on the highway, this conversation never happened. I just need you to understand why you don’t owe me anything. I needed to balance out the universe. I needed to right some wrongs. I needed to save your ass.”

Bobby nodded and pulled back on the highway. They were silent until they reached Dean’s apartment complex and Dean got out of the car. “Thanks kid...for the meal,” Bobby called through the open window.

“No problem,” Dean smiled as he walked away.

\-------------------------

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Unless you’re not…”

“It’s not that, Cas. It’s just, I don’t know, kind of soon.”

Cas sat up and met Dean’s eyes. “Yeah, it hurt and yeah, I’m still sore. But all I’ve been thinking about is how it felt to have you inside of me. Maybe someday you should try it, I highly recommend it,” he smiled. “I can’t even describe it, Dean. Think of the best sex that you’ve ever had, and multiply it.”

“So multiply last night?” Dean grinned.

“Sure. I’m not going to sit here and pathetically beg you to fuck me…”

“You’re going to ask nicely?”

“Will it work?”

Dean chuckled, “I’ve had enough to drink that it might. The asking nicely part. I know that my cock will work. It’s already seriously considering the idea.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Cas grinned from where he was straddling Dean’s hips. Dean sat up, trying not to groan when he felt the ache in his ribs, and wrapped his arms around Cas. He pressed their lips together softly, but Cas was hungry and he deepened the kiss, moving his body closer and subtly rocking his hips. 

“I gave you a hand job this afternoon,” Dean smiled.

“Are you seriously complaining about my sex drive?”

“No,” Dean laughed, falling back on the bed. He reached blindly in the drawer for the lube and rolled Cas on his back. He knelt between Cas’s legs and dripped some on his hand, wrapping it around Cas, slowly stroking. Cas was writhing and starting to moan when Dean rolled him on his stomach and pulled his hips up, covering his own cock with lube. He buried himself with one quick motion and winced at the cry of pain. “I can stop,” he whispered, still stroking, running his other hand up and down Cas’s back gently. “No, just give me a minute.” Dean stroked, waiting for Cas while he shifted and arched. He finally gasped and started rocking his hips. Dean slid his hand down Cas’s back and gripped his shoulder, thrusting slowly. “Right there,” Cas moaned softly, moving back and forth. Dean stroked faster, watching his cock slide in and out. He heard the whimpers and moans, felt the throbbing in his hand, and reached for Cas’s hip. He was rocking, pulling their bodies together. His stomach tightened and he felt it. He cried out and with one last deep thrust, came hard. It was through a daze that he felt Cas’s hand wrap around his, heard the loud groan, and felt the warm sticky fluid. He was still panting, his chest heaving when he bent down and pressed his lips between Cas’s shoulder blades. He pulled out slowly and let Cas’s body sink to the bed. “Are you uh....you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Cas said quietly. “I just wasn’t expecting that.” 

Dean rolled on his back and sighed, “I hurt you.” 

Cas turned his head and looked at him, “Yeah, it hurt, but that’s not what I meant. I didn’t expect the whole flipping me over and fucking me thing.” 

Dean ran his hand up his face and groaned. 

“Okay,” Cas smiled. “Apology pre-emptively not accepted. It was pretty hot. I’m not saying let’s do it again in a couple of hours. I may need to sit on an ice pack at some point. But do NOT feel bad about it. Seriously. The whole taking control thing, the cock meets prostate thing, you stroking me...it was amazing. Come here.” He rolled on his back and pulled Dean to him. “The downside is we’re going to have to change the sheets because I made a sticky mess.”

“That’s your biggest concern?” Dean finally chuckled. “My sheets?”

“Hey, it’s a pain in the ass to put new sheets on. Wait...that was kind of a loaded statement wasn’t it?” 

“Let’s take a quick shower and then I will change the sheets,” Dean smiled, helping him out of bed. They covered his stitches and stepped under the warm water, holding their bodies together until they were relaxed. Dean dried them both off, made the bed, and they crawled under the blankets, holding their bodies close. “So really, did I hurt you?”

“Are going to have this conversation every time we have sex? Yes, it hurts. Obviously not bad enough to stop me from wanting it. One of these days I will get you drunk, I will fuck you, and you will understand,” Cas laughed.

“Okay,” Dean smiled, pressing his lips to Cas’s forehead. “I won’t ask again.”

“Thank god.” Cas tilted his head, waiting for a kiss. “Now let’s get some sleep. I think this may be the first time that neither one of us has to be anywhere tomorrow morning. We can stay in bed all day.”

“Breakfast in bed?” Dean flashed a signature grin.

“I’ll think about it.”

\-------------------------

“I was kidding about the breakfast in bed,” Dean yawned and struggled to sit up.

“You were half kidding. Kind of like the night you were kidding about me inviting you in for a drink. I get to actually spent the day with you. We can lay here naked and watch TV or sleep until I have to get ready to go to work. I want to enjoy it. You worry about hurting me, you have fucked up ribs and stitches and shit. I’m probably a selfish bastard for asking you.”

“You’re a selfish bastard for wanting to have sex with me?” Dean laughed. “So what you are saying is that the last two nights I have made great sacrifices to keep you happy.”

“If you need to look at it that way,” Cas smiled, setting coffee on Dean’s nightstand and handing him a tray.

“Ah...the lengths I’ll go to just to satisfy my man.”

“Lengths? I’ve been wondering about that. What are you packing? I know that it’s eight inches at least.”

Dean just shook his head and picked up his coffee. He turned to Cas and smiled when he crawled back into bed with his own tray. “Did you cook this bacon naked?”

“Uh yeah, why?”

“No fear of grease splatter. You are a masochist.”

“Apparently,” He grinned, leaning over to kiss Dean softly.

\-------------------------

They spent the day napping, watching movies, touching each other softly. The got up to take Balty for a long walk together, their fingers woven together as they walked slowly. They talked and laughed, Cas saw the light in Dean’s eyes. He saw the vulnerable gentle man, he saw the witty and charming man, he saw a man that was coming to mean more to him than he ever expected. Cas finally needed to go home to get ready for work. Dean walked him to the door and kissed him gently. He sat down at the table with the notebook titled ‘Cas’ and wrote for hours.

\-------------------------

Cas showed up at Dean’s after work and found him quiet, turned inward. Writing about his own happiness, the beauty that had come into his life had become questions. Why was he deserving? He’d done nothing to earn it. Cas held him, patiently listening, understanding that Dean was a police office, and a damaged one. Whether it was for the right reasons or not, Dean was still trying to accept that he’d killed a man. Cas brought him food, poured him drinks, touched him and kissed him. They made love gently that night. A slow haze, velvet hands and soft mouths. Fingers trailing, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Dean finally became calm, even passionate under Cas’s hands. They fell asleep with their limbs intertwined. 

\-------------------------

“Do you really think you should be doing this?”

“I’m more worried about you,” Dean chuckled.

“Hey, I can do two miles.”

“Huffing and puffing.”

“But I did it,” Cas smiled. “If you want to go jogging, we can go jogging.”

“You don’t have to go, Cas.”

“I know. I happen to like watching you jog,” he winked. 

“We’re taking Balty, we’re taking my car. I won’t make you suffer through the lingering wet dog smell, especially since you don’t like dogs,” Dean grinned.

“Yeah, well falling in love with Balty was pretty unexpected, but not unwelcome,” Cas said quietly, reaching down to scratch the golden lab behind the ears.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Dean smiled slowly. “So, a jog on the beach and then a coffee?”

“Coffee in Seattle?” Cas looked at Dean out of the corner of his eye. “Isn’t that a little cliche?”

“It’s extremely cliche. If you make it two miles without huffing and puffing, I’ll buy.”

“Deal,” Cas smiled, following Dean out to the car.

\-------------------------

“I’m impressed,” Dean nodded, tilting the cardboard cup to his lips.

“You should be. Holding in the heavy breathing and pretending like I didn’t want to pass out was not easy,” Cas chuckled. “But thanks for the coffee.”

“I figure that by now I’ve probably eaten hundreds of dollars worth of food from The Cliffs, one coffee isn’t going to break me. I’m getting paid for this lovely four week vacay while I heal.”

Cas waited for him to bring up the shooting, and felt relief when he didn’t. Sometimes he looked at Dean and thought that he was entirely too sensitive to be a police officer. Other times he knew that’s what made him a good police officer. He saw Dean’s struggle. “Hey, I know that you brought Bobby to brunch, but maybe you should take him up on that dinner invitation.”

“I don’t know.”

“Dean, you can’t pull away.”

“I know,” Dean sighed. “I have my psych eval in a few days. Reality is going to kick in.”

“Are you going to talk about it?” Cas questioned softly.

“The warehouse?”

“Yeah, the warehouse of whatever else is on your mind.”

“I can’t talk about Oakland, Cas,” Dean said quietly. “You know, the day that I brought Bobby to brunch, I told him. I gave him the short version, I didn’t talk about the kids. But I told him that I watched my partner die and that I’m going to make damn sure that nothing happens to him.”

Cas drank his coffee and looked out the window. “Maybe it would do you some good to see that grumpy bastard. I don’t want to see you distance yourself.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Dean smiled slightly. “I’ll call him when we get home.”

Cas looked over at Dean. They’d established that they were monogamous, that they were together, but he felt like they were both still trying to adjust. Not because they were men but because they both felt something, and they felt it deeply. “When we get home we can shower and then you’ll call Bobby.”

“Are you being bossy or just overprotective?”

“Maybe a little of both,” Cas shrugged. “Does it bother you?”

“No,” Dean smiled. “Bossy is kind of hot, overprotective is kind of comforting.”

“Well, let’s get your ass home. We have shit to do.”

“By home, I’m guessing that you mean yours?”

“Unless I stash some work clothes in your closet.”

“You can leave whatever you want wherever you want,” Dean smiled softly.

“Actually, I should probably drop you off at your place. I mean, your bandages.”

“Do you have saran wrap and medical tape?”

“I do,” Cas smiled, sliding off of the stool. “Let’s go. Fun fact: I have silicon based lube at my place. It won’t wash away in the shower.”

“Fun fact?” Dean grinned.

\-------------------------

Cas was panting, hands pressed against the warm tile when Dean buried his cock and came. “I honestly never thought that I would be so into this,” he gasped, his chest heaving. “I’m not going to push you, but I am more than happy to get you drunk some night and let you experience it.”

“You want to get me drunk and fuck me?” Dean laughed.

“Shit, I’ll fuck you sober.”

“So I’ll be drunk, you’ll be sober?”

“If that’s what it takes,” Cas grinned. “I have to be to work in an hour and you have some calls to make.”

Dean pulled Cas to him under the warm water and kissed him softly while gently soaping his body. “So, when you get off of work…”

“If you don’t mind meeting me here…”

“Of course I don’t mind. You haven’t slept here in a couple of weeks. It’s a nice change of scenery,” Dean pulled Cas close and ran his hands slowly up his back. “You aren’t obligated.”

“I can’t sleep alone, and neither can you. We’ve established that. It’s not obligation, it’s a combination of want and need. The last time I tried to sleep alone, I didn’t know where you were. I didn’t know if you were dead or alive. I can’t sleep unless I know that you are okay.”

“You keep talking like that I’m going to start thinking that maybe you have a thing for me,” Dean smiled.

“I’ve told you before, don’t tell anybody about this ‘nice’ shit. It would just get exhausting if other people started to expect it from me.”

“I won’t,” Dean said quietly. “I’m more than happy to keep it to myself. Now, your ass needs to get ready for work.”

They dried each other off and Dean was tying his boots while he watched Cas get dressed. His body may be more toned, he may put more time in at the gym, but that didn’t take away from how sexy Cas was. Cas’s body, his smile, his eyes, they got to Dean and he’d finally stopped asking himself why.

Cas dropped him off at home with a soft kiss and a promise to see him later.

\-------------------------

“Hey Bobby...Yeah, I’m feeling better. I still look like shit, but I feel better....Well, when you are this good looking naturally the bruises and stitches just add an aura of mystery...I know I’m an asshole...Anyway, I believe that you promised me dinner...No, a fancy brunch doesn’t count just because you drove...Hey, I have no social life but if tonight doesn’t work I totally understand…Burgers and beer at The Roadhouse sound great...I’ll meet you there around 7:00...Thanks Bobby.”

\-------------------------

“How are ya holding up, kid?”

“I’m good,” Dean smiled. “I’m going to be back to my handsome self in no time.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Bobby chuckled. “Sometimes I wonder if you are too damn good looking for your own good.”

“Is that even a thing?” Dean laughed.

“You make everybody else at the station look bad. All of that eating healthy and working out bullshit.”

“I have a greasy burger and a beer in front of me. That’s not exactly healthy, Bobby,” Dean grinned. “So, my four weeks are almost up. Are you ready to put up with my stubborn ass?”

“The station ain’t been the same without ya, kid. Some days I think that even Lefitte misses you.”

“Yeah, I doubt that. Anything hit the desk?”

“Do you really want to talk about work?”

“Honestly Bobby, there is a ton of shit that we could talk about, but I don’t want to,” Dean took a sip of beer, and threw a charming grin at the waitress when she stopped to check on them. She smiled back and winked.

“You do have a way with women,” Bobby smiled. 

“Yeah, well that’s not in the cards,” Dean shrugged, taking a bite of the greasy burger.

“It’s that chef, ain’t it?”

“Haven’t we talked about my private life staying private?”

“That alone answers the question,” Bobby smiled, picking up his own burger.

“Do you really care which team I’m playing for?”

“I don’t give a shit about any of that. I just want to see you happy and healthy.”

“Yeah well I’m getting there. Anything new cross the desk?”

“Pyramid schemes and real estate developers.”

“Breaks my heart to be missing out on all of the fun,” Dean grinned.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re an asshole?”

“All of the time, Bobby. All of the time.”

\-------------------------

He had his psychological evaluation and assured the doctor that yes he had a close family, yes he had close friends, and yes he had a significant other who he felt he could open up to. He talked about as much as he could remember, but he didn’t mention Oakland. He knew that she could open his file at any time, but he didn’t feel like the two situations were related. She signed off on the paperwork stating that he would be fit for duty after his four week administrative leave as long as his physician would release him.

He’d made an appointment with the doctor to have his sutures removed, his ribs looked at, and a final brain scan done. He was antsy and getting bored. He just wanted to get back to work.

He was told to come back in 90 days for a follow up visit. His four weeks of administrative leave were up.

\-------------------------

He blushed at the attention, and smiled when Benny Lefitte handed him two bottles of coffee creamer with his name written on them. He uncomfortably accepted pats on the back and one armed hugs, a part of him hating the idea that he was being congratulated for taking a life. He sat quietly in front of his computer and tried to sort through files, financial statements and real estate investments. He was finally called into the Sergeant’s office.

“Winchester, hell of a job.”

“All in a day’s work.”

“Not in Organized Crime. We’ve never seen something that big and we’ve never had anybody competent enough to take it down like you did.”

“I didn’t really do anything. I found the perp and I set him up.”

“You spent weeks recovering from your injuries, and you saved lives.”

“I appreciate the time off and I was told that the psych eval went okay,” Dean shifted uncomfortably in the hard chair.

“You passed with flying colors. Even with a concussion, you had your head on straight, and I respect that.”

“I can’t take credit. It was a reaction. I did what needed to be done and I was the only one in the position to do it.”

“Well, Officer Singer…”

“Bobby and I have talked about this. Shit happened and it’s business as usual.”

“You know that you could have your pick of any department.”

“No,” Dean said firmly. “I belong with Organized. I owe it to Bobby, and in some ways I owe it to myself. I’m fine. I’m just hoping that things stay quiet.”

“I think that we all are,” The Sergeant smiled. “You’re a hell of a cop and I have a lot of respect for you. You let me know if you ever need anything.”

“I appreciate that. Now if I could get back to my boring desk job…”

“Oh yeah, go ahead.” The Sergeant watched Dean get up from his chair and walk toward the door. “And Winchester?”

“Yeah,” Dean turned to look at him.

“Don’t take any shit from Lefitte.”

“I try not to,” Dean laughed.

\-------------------------

“You’ve been with me for how many months and two miles is still kicking your ass?” Dean laughed, slowly jogging backwards.

“Just because we’ve been together does not mean that we have consistently jogged together. You know that I can be extremely athletic when the situation calls for it,” Cas smiled, throwing the stick that Balty dropped in his hand. “And how did I end up responsible for throwing Balthazar’s stick?”

“Because every time he drops it in your hand you throw it. Between that and the people food, he likes you better than he likes me.”

“I’ve never used to like dogs,” Cas scowled.

“Apparently Balty didn’t get that memo. He thinks that the two of you are best friends. Then again, you didn’t use to like men either,” Dean grinned.

“Neither did you.”

“Oh how a bottle of scotch and good handjob can change a guy’s life.”

“Wow, when you put it like that…” Cas chuckled.

“What,” Dean stopped jogging and turned around to walk with Cas. “You don’t think that it’s a romantic story? You were dumb enough to end up at The Shoreline listening to shitty music when the asshole bartender took pity on you and started giving you free drinks.”

“Hey, you got free lunch at The Cliffs.”

“At the staff table.”

“That was all you. But, yes, a bottle of scotch and good handjob definitely changed my life,” Cas panted.

“Ever regret it?”

“Oh hell no! Your handjobs just keep getting better.”

“Okay, not the direction that I was going, but I’ll take it. I mean the whole thing, the big picture.”

“Hey,” Cas reached out and pulled Dean into his arms. “I don’t know if you mean the whole ‘guy’ thing, or because it just kind of came out of nowhere. I don’t know if you’re talking about the shit that you’ve gone through. I don’t need to know because the answer is the same. I don’t regret a fucking moment that I have spent with you.”

“This isn’t me being insecure, Cas. I know who you want to share a bed with. I mean, being with a chef...my biggest concern is a sharp knife taking off a fingertip. I’m a cop. I know that I’m not out on the streets, but we’ve both seen that it can happen. The Sergeant told me that I could switch units. I could have my pick. Vice, Homicide, Special Victims, I could possibly even get in with the DEA.”

“And?”

“Bobby is really the only thing that is keeping me in Organized. I know that maybe it’s fucking sick, but all of that bullshit made me feel like a real cop and not a title. Yeah, I’m Officer Winchester, but I sit at a fucking desk. Bobby asked me once if I feel like we actually serve and protect. I told him that I don’t think I ever have. Fuck, leave it to me to have an existential crisis in your arms on the beach.”

“I can’t think of a better place,” Cas said softly, pressing his lips to Dean’s temple. “Listen, if that badge is truly in your blood, and you don’t think that you are doing what you were meant to do, then you need to rethink things. Bobby would understand if you moved. That man looks at you like a son and he just wants what’s best.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What if I went with DEA, Gang, or Vice?”

Cas took a deep breath and pulled Dean closer. “Listen, I have absolutely no say in what you do with your life. We are in this together and it is up to me to just be here. If we want to go with the cheesy ‘when the going gets tough’ thing, it’s already gotten tough. It could have been worse, but I still spent over 24 hours not knowing if you were dead or alive. I held you while you dealt with the emotional shit. I was there when it made you physically sick. I’d do it again. The night that you told me about Oakland, I made you stay. You told me that I didn’t have to, but I knew that I did. Yeah, we were friends and I would never turn my back on a friend. Sure, we’d fooled around, but at the time I was trying to just write it off as a drunken thing. I’d never been with a man, but I’d never ruled it out and we crossed that line with no regrets. My world is better because you are in it, Dean. I guess it’s that simple. You get me, and I get you. If you want to move to a different unit, you don’t need to come to me unless you need someone to bounce ideas off of. If you want to do it, then do it. If you feel like you owe Bobby, then wait until he retires and move on. Hell, if you want to switch careers entirely, I have your fucking back.”

“I know you do,” Dean murmured from where he’d buried his face in Cas’s neck. “I swear, if you hadn’t been here I might have tucked my tail between my legs and run back to Kansas.”

“Is that something that you may want?”

“To move back to Kansas?” Dean asked, pulling away to look into Cas’s eyes. “I couldn’t wait to get out of there, neither could my brother. I can’t do the midwest thing again. I can’t be Officer Winchester from the Lawrence PD. It’s not who I am. I belong here, something about it feels right. God, that’s a line from a Lifetime Network movie of the week,” Dean scoffed.

“Not at all,” Cas grinned. “You are talking to a Boston boy who wouldn’t give up the rain and coffee for anything. The Cliffs, the overpriced condo, the car that I paid too much for but still isn’t as sweet as your ‘67 Impala, you and that damn dog...why would I want to be anywhere else?” He kissed Dean softly and pulled him closer. “I know that you’re fucking broken, Dean. I could have turned around and run a long time ago, but I can’t and I won’t. You have this way of looking at me when I wake up. I see how grateful you are when I do the small things like make you a fucking sandwich. You needed me just to fall asleep. You trust me enough to tell me shit that you won’t tell anyone. Those things are all a part of the big picture that I could never regret. I come from a big, loving, loud family. They drove me nuts, they still drive me nuts, but one thing they taught me is that human beings need other human beings. We can’t make our way through this fucked up world alone. I want to be that human being for you. I don’t want you to feel alone. Put on your tough guy act at the station. Argue with Bobby and give Lefitte shit about coffee creamer. Put on the suave sexy act at the bar. Be arrogant and cocky. Flash that grin and get the big tips. But alone, with me, just be Dean.”

“Thank you,” Dean’s voice shook as he wrapped his arms around Cas’s neck. “I don’t know what in the hell you saw other than abs, but I’m happy that you saw it.”

“Hey, I’m still pretty fucking impressed by the abs,” Cas smiled, pressing his lips to Dean’s temple. “I’m just happy that I get to share a bed with them almost every night.”

Dean pulled away and kissed Cas softly. “I think that the girls at The Shoreline finally caught on.”

“Really?” Cas smiled. “And…”

“I figure if it helps them sleep at night to know that they can’t compete with a man, more power to them. They were easier to deal with after you started hanging out at the end of my bar until closing time.”

“I have a crush on that green eyed bartender, what can I say? It’s your fault, you didn’t throw my number away.”

“Shit, who needs a number when you have a house key,” Dean smiled. “I say we shower and get something to eat.”

“Lead the way.” Cas watched Dean start to walk away and reached for his hand, “for what it’s worth, I mean it when I say that I will support you if you decide to move to a different unit. Maybe you weren’t meant to sit at a desk.”

“I don’t know, Cas. Maybe I’m just trying to find myself.”

“I’m here to help you look.”

\-------------------------

The station, the Organized Crime Unit wanted to award him for his conduct in service, but he wasn’t comfortable with it. Cas finally told him that accepting the accolades made it real, made it a positive thing for him and showed his fellow officers that he was to be taken seriously, a force to be reckoned with.

\-------------------------

Some days he spent writing furiously in his notebook. The beauty that was Cas, the heaviness that he carried for having killed a man. An evil man, but he still took a life and he had to live with that. He tried to stop himself from wondering if that man had a wife or children. People who would miss him and grieve, even though he was running an illegal and dangerous racket. A human being was still a human being and Dean had a hard time reconciling that. Cas saw it and felt it. He held Dean when he was tired, emotionally exhausted. Sometime Dean looked into those indescribable blue eyes and asked himself why. Why would this amazing human being want to do these things for him, but Cas did. He still smiled when he thought about the first time Cas called him ‘my man’. It was possessive and honest. Cas saw Dean as his, and Dean found peace in that.

\-------------------------

“So, how did it feel being the center of attention?” Cas handed Dean a drink and sat down on the couch next to him.

“Uh strange mostly. Awkward and a little bit wrong. I don’t feel like I deserve an award. I can’t even bring myself to hang it up. None of it feels honorable, ya know?”

“I know,” Cas sighed, reaching for Dean’s hand. “One of these days you will have processed all of this and you’ll see it differently. I know that you didn’t go into training thinking about taking out the bad guys, and you didn’t walk out of training thinking that either. You want to save people, Dean. I get it. I see it in your eyes. You’re sensitive, but that makes you a good cop, believe it or not. You just need to eventually wrap your head around this. I’m not saying tonight, I’m not saying a week from now, but you need to see it for what it was. It wasn’t just Bobby’s life on the line, it was those girls, and it was your own.”

“I know, Cas,” Dean groaned, leaning forward and running his hands up his face. “I hate that I get to so fucking moody about it. I hate that you are the one who has to deal with it.”

“Dean, look at me.”

Dean turned his head and saw the soft smile. “Do you honestly think that a sarcastic dick like me does shit just to be nice? No. I don’t dread the nights that I know are going to be rough. It was rough when you were undercover, but I never once thought about leaving. I know that this shit gets to you, and I know why. It’s not like I’m a ray of fucking sunshine all of the time. Granted, it’s because my staff pisses me off and I’m pretty much a dick in general, but you stick around. So don’t hang up the fucking award. Don’t sit at the station and swap stories about that day. Show up and do what you’ve always done.”

“What? Stare at Bobby’s face all day,” Dean finally smiled.

“I’m not saying that your job is perfect.” Cas grinned.

\-------------------------

“Yeah, no problem. I can be there by 4:00. Thanks.” Dean hung up his phone and looked over at Bobby. “I have to bail early for an appointment. I know that we are up to our necks in possible pyramid schemes, but I figure you’ll live for an hour or so with out me.”

“I don’t know, this whole cleaning product business is getting pretty intense,” Bobby smiled.

“We seriously have the most boring jobs on the force.”

“Not always, kid.”

“Yeah, well for the most part we do. Your retirement date is coming up. Are you going to take it? Or stick around?”

“You trying to get rid of me?’’

“Hey, as long as you are part of Organized, I am part of Organized. I’m just asking if I need to start preparing for some asshole to replace you.”

“Nobody can replace me, kid.” Bobby grinned.

“Now that is a true statement,” Dean smiled and stood up. “I’m going to drop these files off with the big dogs and grab some coffee. Do you want anything?”

“I’m good. Hey Dean?” 

Dean turned around and looked at the older man. “Yeah?”

“If I retire, what are you going to do? Stick with Organized or move on? You know there’s a decent chance that once I leave they may dismantle Organized completely and I know you’d have your pick of whatever department you want.”

“Well, as long as you’re here, I’m not going anywhere. If you retire, then I take some time to think and have a long discussion before I decide where to go.”

“I know it’s that chef. Was he there when the…” 

“Every step of the way. I don’t know why, but he stuck around while I dealt with the bullshit and backlash. He spent a lot of time wanting to know, but not asking because he knew that I couldn’t talk about it. He knows how important it was for me to make sure that nothing happened to you. We sound like we’re writing a fucking Hallmark card here,” Dean grinned. “Are you sure you don’t want some coffee or something?”

“Yeah, bring me a cup of the black sludge and any pizza that might be left over,” Bobby smiled. “Thanks kid.”

“No problem. Coffee and cold pizza coming up.”

\-------------------------

_“Did you want to stop by here? Or do you want to meet up at your place?"_ Dean sighed when he hit send. 

_“It’s up to you.”_

_“I’m not in the mood to make decisions (sorry if I sound like an asshole). Small apartment that includes needy canine, or overpriced condo? Please, just decide and I’ll be wherever at 10:00.”_

_“I’ll go with steak tips for the needy canine. Everything okay?”_

Dean took a deep breath, _“Yeah. I’ll just see you at 10:00.”_

\-------------------------

Dean was on his second drink and looked up when he saw Cas’s smiling face. He watched Cas close the door behind him, and saw his beauty and vitality.

“Let me throw this in the bowl for Balty while you grab plates.”

Dean pushed his food around, but ate as much as he could. He was quiet and Cas knew that it was one of those nights. He didn’t mind, he’d gotten used to Dean’s mood swings. Sometimes the downward swing mean more to him than the upward swing, but he wasn’t sure why. He watched Dean clear the table and pour them drinks before excusing himself to the bathroom. He stood at the kitchen counter, sipping at the mid grade scotch. He heard the bathroom door open, but Dean didn’t come back to the kitchen. He waited, but still no Dean. He grabbed both glasses and found Dean in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.

“Dean?”

“Yeah,” his voice was thick and raspy.

“What’s going on?” 

“I uh...I don’t even know...it’s all so fucked up...”

Cas set the glasses on the nightstand and squatted down in front of him. “Okay, we’ve been through some shit, but you’re making me nervous. What in the hell is going on.”

“What do you get from me, Cas?”

“What?”

“What do I bring to this? I mean, we got drunk and shared handjobs, but at the end of the day it didn’t really mean anything and we both knew it. I dumped my life, my ugly fucking life on you and instead of turning your back, you took me to your bed. Not to fuck me, just to be there. Some days I regret getting out of my car that night and knocking on your door. I had buried that shit so deep and I felt like I was living again. But, I opened a wound, I relived it, I made you live it, and I started to become somebody that I don’t want to be. I needed to leave that pathetic broken version of me in Oakland. Coming up here was supposed to be my fresh start, but I fucked up. I let my demons out to play. Some days I feel like I’m losing sight of the arrogant and charming asshole that you met. That cocky green eyed bartender. I’ve tried to just bury it again, but then I spent months undercover, smelling the stench of the ugly side of humanity. I couldn’t wash that shit off, I still smell it. You spent night after night not knowing what in the hell was going on, but leading me to the shower to try and help me feel clean, to feel human. I killed a man,” Dean scoffed. “I fucking blew a human being away. I took a fucking life. I know what he was, but he was still fucking human and I ended that. There is somebody out there. A wife, a kid, a mother, somebody who doesn’t want to believe that he was who he was and will always blame Officer Winchester for taking him away from them. That was me, all me. You and Bobby, you both fucking tell me that I did the right thing,” Dean could feel the tears, but made no effort to wipe them away. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t know what’s right. Why does a part of me feel guilt for taking a life but another part of me feels cheated out of taking a kill shot that I deserved? That night in Oakland, I wanted to kill that son of a bitch because I stood there and I watched him gun down his own kids. His fucking kids. It was like slow fucking motion. Nobody would have mourned him if I’d pulled the trigger. I stared down pure evil and I watched innocent people die. I stood there, covered in the blood of somebody who didn’t deserve it. Somebody I should have been able to save. That motherfucker, he wasn’t human and I didn’t even flinch when he put his gun in his mouth. It was my shot, not his. I felt like that selfish bastard had no right to end his own life. It should have been me pulling the trigger, not him. I changed, and it’s never gotten better. I’ve written in my fucking notebooks about it and tucked it away, but it still hasn’t gotten better. Blowing away some low life scum did not feel like justice. It did not feel like I balanced out the universe. If anything, it’s gotten worse. I’ve been lying to myself and everyone else. I’m fucked up. I’ve known, I’ve known for a long time that I’m fucking toxic,” Dean cried softly.

“What in the hell are you talking about,” Cas asked quietly with tears in his eyes.

“I need to know what I bring to this. I need to know why you come back. Why you want me in your life. Why you think that I am worth it, because I don’t see it. I’m a mess and I cannot wrap my head around why I matter to you. I’m not throwing myself a pity party, I’m being fucking honest. I don’t see how my presence in your life makes it better. I try, but I can’t. So why, Cas? Why me?”

“How do you expect me to answer a question like that? For the first time in my fucking life I feel like I belong to someone. It isn’t as uneven as it looks on paper. I know that you’re damaged, I knew that the night that you came back and talked to me. I didn’t have to stick around, I chose to. I’m not going to pretend like it’s always easy, but it’s not supposed to be. On your good days, you make me feel things that I’ve never felt before. When you have bad days, I find some...I don’t know...sick comfort in the idea that you blindly trust me. You lay in my arms and you believe that you’re going to get through it, and we always do. You aren’t the pathetic mess that you think you are. This isn’t one sided. I’m not the strong one who holds you up. I believe all of those words that you whisper to me. Every time you touch me, it’s like the first time. When you smile, truly smile and I see it in your eyes, it takes my breath away. I want you to open up to me. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Maybe that makes me pathetic, but I need you to need me. What do you bring to this? I’ve felt it, but I haven’t know how or when to say it. That day when I heard about the warehouse and I couldn’t get a hold of you, I couldn’t see straight. I couldn’t breathe. I knew, I just knew that I couldn’t lose you. I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life trying to sleep alone. You bring me you, Dean, and that’s all I need,” Cas’s voice shuddered. “I’ve seen you go through a lot of shit, but this is new. I’ve never seen you this low and it’s honestly scaring this shit out of me. Now what in the fuck is going on?”

“Here,” Dean said quietly, holding out a piece of paper. Cas reached for it but Dean pulled his arm back and crumpled it in his hand. “You deserve to hear it. I went for my 90 day follow up today. I’m pretty sure that I know how and I know when...I’m HIV positive, Cas. 0.3% chance if you’re stuck by a dirty needle. The percentage just goes higher when you talk about open wounds, blood. Somebody in that warehouse was carrying that shit, and I ended up with it while I was getting my ass kicked.”

Cas stood up and almost lost his balance. He was dizzy and confused. He felt like the world had stopped spinning and he couldn’t breathe. “They didn't say anything at the hospital?”

“That warehouse was a fucking mess. Yeah, there were needles on the floor where I was getting the shit beat out of me. They took me out on a stretcher covered in my own blood, and probably somebody else’s. Open wounds, dirty needles, nobody knew if I had been stuck or if some asshole and I somehow traded blood. It wasn’t something any of us thought about, at least I didn’t. Maybe they should have considered it, I don’t know,” Dean said quietly. “We had sex, intercourse what? Less than a week after that? Without a condom? How many times have I been inside of you since? I have no idea, but once is enough. You need to be tested,” he finished quietly.

“There are drugs, Dean. Medication. It’s isn’t a death sentence anymore.”

“Yeah, they prescribed some shit for me, I don’t even know what. I have a handful of pamphlets that I can’t bring myself to look at. They legally can’t tell the department.” Dean dropped his head and let the tears come when he felt Cas stand between his legs and wrap his arms around him. He pressed his cheek to Cas’s stomach and gripped the back of his shirt. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Listen, I’ll go to a clinic tomorrow and get tested, but we can’t change anything now,” Cas said softly, his voice almost robotic. He felt like he was on the outside looking in.

“You may carry a disease inside of you. That’s what I bring to this. I may have single handedly ruined your life and for what?”

“This is not going to ruin my life, or your life. I asked you, I practically begged you to come inside of me that night, you were the one who hesitated. Neither one of us reached for a condom. It isn’t on you. This doesn’t change the fact that I love you...”

“How in the hell can somebody like you love somebody like me? I’m not looking for sympathy or some canned response that will make me feel better. I’m trying to understand why you are here. I feel like everywhere I turn, it’s just death. I get that HIV isn’t a death sentence. The doctor was very clear, but medication, the constant doctor’s appointments, and the fucking stigma still attached...” Dean pulled Cas closer. “I need you to be healthy. I need to know that I didn’t poison you. I fucking love you, Cas. I fucked up. God, I fucked up...”

“Right now, you need me and I need you. We are equally responsible for whatever the outcome is and we will move forward, but I can’t do it without you. We’re in this together, Dean. You have a choice to make. You follow me to the shower, or we crawl under those blankets together. It’s your call.”

“I just need to feel you.”

“So follow me to the shower.”

\-------------------------

They held each other and cried, the warm water mixing with tears. Cas was scared, he was terrified. He knew in his heart that he would test positive, but it wasn’t Dean’s fault. They crawled into bed nude, unable to make love but unable to stop touching one another. “I love you, Cas. The first time I saw your eyes and heard you laugh at one of my stupid jokes, something changed for me. I fell in love with a sarcastic and witty chef who just so happened to show up at my bar. I never wanted to hurt you…”

“We will get through this. I’ll be honest, I’m fucking scared, but I’m prepared to hear the results. Just know that whatever they are, I love you too and I’m in this, no matter what.”

They cried softly, touched, and kissed. Dean’s timidity and self loathing somehow turned into a gentle passion as he slid his warm hands across Cas’s skin and moved his lips along his body. They finally fell asleep, their limbs intertwined.

\-------------------------

Dean smelled the coffee and bacon and rolled out of bed, searching his dresser drawer for pajama pants. He tried to convince himself that yesterday wasn’t real, but almost broke down when he saw the crumpled up paper on the floor. He walked slowly into the kitchen and saw Balty happily chewing on a piece of bacon. Cas slid a cup of coffee, water, and tylenol across the small kitchen island and walked around it to wrap his arms around Dean from behind.

“We are on this journey together, damage and all. It’s about you and me and a life that I want to build. I just need to know if it means as much to you as it does to me.”

Dean slowly wrapped his fingers around Cas’s arms. “God, Cas...you mean everything. I hate what I have put you through…”

“I fell in love with a cop, I knew that there were risks. I will go to the clinic today and get tested, but the results won’t change my mind. I want you, and only you. What do you bring to this? I’ve learned that when you feel something, you feel it deeply and I believe that your feelings for me run deep. You are worth it to me, Dean. You are beautiful and charming. Your eyes and your smile can change my day. When you touch me, you know what I need. What started as me being an asshole at a bar became something that turned my life upside down and I don’t regret a minute of it. If you want to go to the clinic with me, you can. I understand if you don’t want to. I know that it might take a couple of days to get the results. But I need you today. I need to see you and feel you. I want you next to me. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I took the liberty of calling Bobby and telling him that you are sick. I know that he knows about us and he accepted the excuse with no explanation. I called my sous chef and scared the shit out of him when I said that I’d be on call if he started the place on fire, but I trust him with our specials. You’re stuck with me. After the clinic I’ll go to the grocery store. We’ll watch stupid movies, eat, and hopefully fall asleep together at some point.”

“Whatever you want, Cas, it’s yours.”

“I just want your time. Now let me finish this breakfast for the three of us. I’m supposed to be at the clinic by 11:00. I hate asking you this, but have you been with anyone else?”

“I haven’t touched anyone other than you since we met.”

“Neither have I.”

Dean turned Cas’s arm and bent his head, pressing his lips to the inside of his wrist. “I love you. I meant every word that I said, Cas”

“I love you too. This is about us and that damn dog. Let me finish breakfast and we’ll figure out where to go from here,” Cas gently pressed his lips to the back of Dean’s neck.

\-------------------------

The drive was quiet, but the silence wasn’t palpable. Dean drummed his fingers distractedly on the steering wheel to the beat of the low classic rock. Cas was trembling, but trying to stay calm. He reached for Dean’s hand in the parking lot, and took a deep breath when they called his name. Dean was anxious while he waited, checking his phone and rifling through magazines. He finally saw Cas come through the doors.

“Apparently they have a faster way of testing, but they give the results in person. I have an appointment to come back tomorrow at 9:00am.”

“I will come with you if that’s what you want. It’s your call, Cas.”

“Don’t you have to work?”

“This isn’t about the station. I’ll tell them that I’m going to work from home and they won’t question it, not with the amount of brownie points I’ve earned. This is about you.”

“Most of me wants you by my side. Part of me doesn’t want you to see me if I fall apart.”

“Cas,” Dean said softly, pulling him into his arms. “You’ve watched me fall apart more than once. Don’t be a fucking martyr and put on a brave front. You need me, I’m here.”

“I just need to preemptively tell you again that if you apologize, I won’t accept it. There is no blame here. It’s life and we move forward, okay? Now, let’s go to the grocery store and do the boring shit that boring couples do.”

\-------------------------

They held hands while taking turns throwing a stick for Balty at the beach. He didn’t seem to understand why they were walking instead of jogging, he was just happy to be there. Cas cooked while Dean tried to help. He ended up relegated to cutting up vegetables and was told that he had no future in the culinary arts. Cas cooked entirely too much food and they ate until they were beyond content. Cas sat between Dean’s legs on the couch and leaned his back against his chest, loving the feeling of the strong arm around him while Dean held a tumbler of scotch in his other hand. Cas needed comfort, Cas needed love, Cas needed time, and Dean was there to give it to him. They watched movies, trying to focus on the comedy to take their minds off of the pending appointment. They finally crawled in bed, Dean set his alarm and they spent hours touching and kissing. It was desperate and gentle. Dean needed to make Cas feel something. That was all he had to offer, and he did so willingly. He pulled Cas to him, letting him rest his head on his chest. “We may not beat this thing, but we’ll do our best to kick it in the ass,” Dean pressed his lips to the top of Cas’s head. “No matter what the outcome is, I will do whatever I can to protect you,” Dean whispered, pulling their bodies closer. “I know you will. That’s what you bring to this, Dean. You make me believe that you would do anything for me.” Cas tilted his head, searching Dean’s face in the dark, wishing he could see those emerald eyes. “I would, and I will. I love you, Cas.” Cas pulled the blanket over them and curled his body closer, needing to feel as much of Dean’s body as he could. “I love you too.”

\-------------------------

Cas’s hands were shaking, he tried to pass it off as too much coffee. He’d gotten maybe two hours of sleep, at most. Dean wanted to come with him, and insisted upon driving when Cas finally agreed. He heard his name and felt dizzy when he stood up. He couldn’t look back at Dean. He wasn’t angry, he didn’t blame him, he just knew that he’d fall apart if he saw those guilt in those green eyes. He silently followed the medical assistant into a consultation room and sat down in one of the soft chairs while he waited for the doctor to come in and speak to him. He glanced at the brochures littering the small tables and nervously ran his hands down his thighs, wiping the sweat from his palms. He heard the door open and took a deep breath.

\-------------------------

Dean couldn’t say that he knew how Cas was feeling. He’d been blindsided, it felt like a cruel joke when the doctor told him. But Cas, he knew that there was a chance. He looked around the waiting room, he looked at the stacks of magazines, he felt the receptionist watching him. He wanted to get up and pace, but he felt rooted in the cheap uncomfortable chair. He watched people walk in, giving their names at the front desk and then sitting down to wait. He could feel it, they all wondered why the others were there. They glanced at one another trying to guess. He finally dropped his head and stared at his hands. Time stood still and his chest felt heavy. He looked up when he heard the door. Cas didn’t have to say a word. He was holding a piece of paper, THE piece of paper. His hand was full of pamphlets and written prescriptions. He just looked at Dean, confused and scared. Dean stood up and followed him silently.

\-------------------------

“Where do you want to go?” Dean’s voice shook. “Somewhere public? Somewhere private?”

“I don’t want to be in public right now,” Cas whispered, staring at the sheet of paper in his hand. They’d pulled out of the parking lot, but he wasn’t even paying attention to when Dean turned or stopped for red lights. “I’ve had a day and a half to prepare for this. I wasn’t surprised. But I’m scared, Dean. I’m really fucking scared right now,” Cas started to cry softly. “I need to go to work tonight. Thank god we’ve always used rubber gloves in the kitchen. I don’t know how I would explain that,” he babbled. 

“What do you need right now, Cas? A condo? A small apartment with a dog? Me? To be left alone? Whatever it is, I’ll take you there and stay or I’ll take you there and leave.”

“My car is at your place.”

“Okay, I’ll take you to your car.” Dean could feel his own tears welling up.

“Will you follow me home?”

“Of course I will,” Dean said quietly.

\-------------------------

Dean watched Cas drop his keys and paperwork on the counter and hang his jacket over the back of a chair. He threw his jacket over the back of another chair and awkwardly perched on the edge of it.

“I don’t want sympathy or to try and keep up that bullshit bravado about this not being a death sentence. We don’t need to talk about how we got careless and fucked up. I just...I don’t even know...” Cas said quietly. “I uh...I think I just need to lay down.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dean said thickly, standing up. “I’ll just go ahead and…”

Cas came around the island and wrapped his fingers around Dean’s wrist. He finally lifted his head and saw the watery blue eyes and slow tears. “Please?” Cas whispered.

Dean nodded silently and followed Cas into the living room. They stripped to their boxers and Dean climbed on the couch, laying on his side, waiting for Cas, finally pulling his body close. He tried not to sob when he felt the warm skin and buried his face in Cas’s neck. Both of their bodies were shaking when Cas pulled a blanket over them and wrapped his hands around Dean’s arms. 

\-------------------------

Neither really slept. Cas could heard Dean’s soft snore intermittently, but then his body would shift and he’d pull Cas closer. Cas would doze but then look at the clock and see that only minutes had passed. 

They both knew when it was time for Cas to start getting ready for work. They climbed off of the couch, Dean got dressed, and pulled him into his arms. He pressed his lips gently against his temple. He stopped in the doorway and looked back at Cas, still pale and shaking. He waited until he had shut the door behind him before he let loose. He was sobbing. He had no way of knowing that Cas watched him walk to his car and rest his head against the steering wheel, unable to start the engine.

\-------------------------

“Okay, I’ve got two chicken and three fish that need to be plated now for table 12. I need two filets on the grill. Is that asparagus ready?” Cas needed to lose himself in the madness of The Cliffs kitchen on a Friday night. He received a text from Dean just before the dinner rush started. It simply said, _“I love you Cas”_. He felt like an asshole when he slid his phone back in his pocket and reached for a pair of rubber gloves without responding. 

\-------------------------

Dean pulled his laptop out and started opening files. Pyramid schemes involving cleaning products or household items, it had been going on for 30 years and every time they were taken down, and new one popped up. This isn’t what he signed up for when he entered training. He’d sent a quick text to Cas, not really expecting a response. He didn’t want to be at home, he didn’t want to go jogging, he didn’t know what to do. He finally just got in his car and drove, stopping at a coffee shop before pulling into the parking lot of a pier. He walked up and down the sidewalk, stopping to lean against the railing and look at the boats. The way they shifted and rocked as the low waves moved between them. It was mesmerizing and almost enough to make him tired. He stood there until his coffee was gone and walked back to the car, throwing away his coffee cup before he got in and headed home.

He took a hot shower, but it was one of those day when he felt tainted and demoralized. He tried to eat, but pushed the food around on his plate, eventually giving up and rinsing it down the garbage disposable. He took Balty for a walk and laid down to watch a movie, but he couldn’t focus. He finally locked the door with a deep sigh and went to bed.

\-------------------------

He heard the rustling of clothes and felt the mattress dip. “I didn’t know if you would…”

“I can’t sleep alone, Dean. I really don’t want to try. It doesn’t matter how any of it happened or where it came from, you didn’t know. None of this is on you, but I know that you think it is. Call it a job hazard, bad luck, or just ending up in a fucked up situation. At the end of the day, it is what it is. It’s the end of the day and nothing has changed.” Cas moved across the bed and kissed Dean, parting his lips, letting their tongues slide together. He slid his hand up Dean’s body, running his fingertips across a nipple. He smiled when he felt the shiver.

“Cas,” Dean said quietly. “Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean…”

“That line has been crossed. We are both in the same place here. I need this. We need this if we want to find our way back. If if makes you feel better to use a condom, grab one. I really don’t care.”

Dean reached over and turned on the lamp, opening the nightstand drawer and wrapping his hand around the bottle of lube. It was irresponsible, it wasn’t right, but he closed the drawer without reaching for a condom. He set the bottle on the bed next to him and closed his eyes when he felt Cas’s lips softly move along the fading scar that ran across his forehead. 

The next kiss was deep and passionate. Dean wrapped his arm around Cas’s neck and entwined his fingers in the dark hair, gently pulling. He felt Cas’s breath catch and they pressed their bodies together. Cas’s mouth was hot and desperate as it moved across Dean’s neck and down his chest, pulling a nipple between his teeth so that he could hear the inevitable moan. His fingers slid down Dean’s sides, his mouth leaving a trail of red and purple marks. His hands slipping between Dean’s body and the mattress, grabbing his ass, squeezing and massaging. His breath caught again when Dean’s fingers tightened, pulling at his hair, pushing his head towards his rigid cock. Cas smiled and ran his fingers across Dean’s dry hole, spreading his legs and replacing them with his tongue. He felt the deep moan in Dean’s chest when he slid his tongue across his hole again, probing gently with the tip. Dean pulled his fingers from Cas’s hair and let his legs fall open against the mattress, Cas’s tongue was still pushing and probing, his hand cupping Dean’s balls and softly squeezing. Dean felt his cock twitch and he gripped the sheets, already arching and beginning to pant. He gasped when he felt Cas gently lick and suck on his balls, reaching for the lube. He was expecting the finger and he knew that Cas would find the spot. He was ready to come when Cas ran his tongue up the length of his shaft, moving his finger rhythmically inside of him. Cas’s hand was slick when it wrapped around his cock, sliding across the head. “I want you to look at me, Dean” he said quietly, pulling his finger out and straddling him. Dean looked down, watched him line up and slide his body slowly, taking him deep. He heard the pained groan and shifted his hips until he knew that they’d found it, the place that made took Cas to another place. Cas rocked, letting Dean watch him, needing Dean to watch him move, his hard cock sliding in and out of Cas’s body while he stroked himself. Dean’s pupils were already lust blown, his stomach was tight when he reached down and wrapped his hand around Cas’s, squeezing and rubbing. Cas was so tight, moving slowly and moaning. He finally let go of himself, letting Dean run his hand along his shaft. Dean was rocking and thrusting. Cas leaned back, gripping Dean’s thighs while his mouth curled into something between a smile and a wince. He tilted his head and cried out, coming in Dean’s hand while Dean groaned loudly and arched, his chest heaving, sweat running down his hairline. Cas was panting when he bent forward and pressed their bodies together, holding himself up on his elbows to draw Dean into a deep kiss. “Holy shit,” he finally whispered, rolling onto his back, still unable to catch his breath. He turned his head and smiled, Dean was still in a daze. “Are you okay?” he smiled. “I’m not sure,” Dean said quietly. “Check back with me in a minute.” Cas laughed and leaned over to kiss him again, helping him out of the bed and into the shower.

\-------------------------

“I tried not to wage war on your nipples,” Cas smiled slowly, looking at Dean’s chest while he soaped up his body.

“Wage war any time you want,” Dean smiled. “I don’t know what in the hell that was…”

“Uh, that was sex, Dean.”

“Incredible sex,” Dean grinned, pulling Cas to him for a kiss. “Definitely a leg and ab workout.”

“Seriously? That’s how I get abs? I let you ride my cock?”

“I don’t know if it’s been scientifically proven,” Dean laughed, “but I am willing to try sometime.”

“Can I get that in writing?”

“Shit, my head is still spinning. I don’t think I could write my own name right now.” 

\-------------------------

They dried each other off with soft towels and Dean sent Cas back to the bedroom while he poured them drinks. Cas put the bottle of lube in the drawer, looking at the box of condoms, knowing that they should have used one. The doctor told him that even if his partner was also HIV positive, they should still practice safe sex. He knew that he would never sleep with anyone else and maybe it was irresponsible, but there was no going back. He smiled when Dean set the glass on the nightstand and bent down to kiss him. He picked up the drink and held it against his chest while Dean climbed back into bed.

\-------------------------

“You left the door open.”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed. “Balty is asleep on the floor at the foot of the bed. I figured I’d let him stay there. I’m pretty sure after being locked out of this room for months, he knows not to bother us.”

“What if we want a quickie in the morning? I mean a dog in the room might make things a little awkward,” Cas smiled.

“You are seriously planning a quickie in the morning? It might take me days to get it up again.”

Cas chuckled and took a sip of his drink. “So, you took a shift at The Shoreline tomorrow night?”

“Yeah. I haven’t been there in months, but the owner called desperate for a bartender.”

“So, uh, the doctor said that even though we’re 99% sure that we know where the virus came from, I should still contact any partners from the last few years. Unfortunately I don’t know how to get a hold of any of them. What are you going to do? I mean the cocktail waitresses and customers?”

“I don’t know,” Dean sighed. “I’ve thought about it. I always used a condom, but still. I mean, we both know that it happened at the warehouse. I was clean when I was with them. I get that this is my reality, but can we not talk about this right now? We are killing the post bang buzz.”

“Okay,” Cas chuckled. “I’ll let you revel in the post bang buzz. Would it kill it if I said the three magical words?”

“Wanna fuck again?” Dean turned his head and smiled.

“Okay, those are pretty magical. I love you, asshole.”

“That was four words, but I love you too,” Dean leaned over and kissed Cas. “It is good to know that I have a second option when it comes to three magical words.”

“It’s all about timing and context.”

\-------------------------

Dean rolled over, picked up his phone, and moaned. He could hear Cas’s sleepy even breaths and he knew that Cas needed to be at the restaurant in a couple of hours for brunch. “Hey,” he said quietly, nipping at Cas’s earlobe. “You should probably get up.”

“You want that quickie?” Cas rolled over and smiled slowly.

“Uh no. If I’m sore, I can only imagine how you feel.”

“Yeah, I’m hurting,” Cas grunted, struggling to sit up. “What time is it?” he yawned. 

“8:30ish.”

“Fuck. I’m not in the mood to feed pretentious douchebags.”

“Hey, I’m not kicking you out by any means, but I think that your sous might blow a gasket if you ask him to do it again. Maybe not, I don’t really know the guy…”

“No, your right,” Cas stretched. “We can’t keep pushing real life to the side. It’s still out there and we’ve got to deal with it. And there’s the whole control freak thing I have going on. Now get your ass up and I’ll make us some real breakfast.”

“You really don’t have to…”

“Oh yeah,” Cas turned to Dean and smirked. “Your refrigerator is stocked with breakfast food just waiting to be cooked.”

“The blame really falls on you. If you didn’t cook for me almost every time we spend the night together…”

“Which is every night.”

“I can’t help it. I’ve grown used to a personal morning chef. And breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Dean grinned. They rolled out of bed and put their boxers on. Cas looked at Balty asleep on the floor.

“I want to see if this works. Bacon!” Cas chuckled.

Balthazar lifted his head and looked at Cas, jumping to his feet to sniff at his hands. “Not yet buddy, give me a minute.”

“I thought you hated dogs.”

“So did I.”

\-------------------------

They actually talked and laughed over breakfast. Cas saw light in Dean’s eyes. Dean wasn’t letting this defeat him. Life would go on, and it would go on together. They kissed at the door and Cas promised to try and make it to the bar before closing. Dean sat down with a notebook resting against his legs, a notebook that he’d started after he got his test results. His ‘Cas’ notebook was in his bag and he wasn’t sure which one to write in. He had enough words for both. He picked up his pen and started.

\-------------------------

It was almost like a sick celebrity welcome when the cocktail waitresses and regulars started showing up. They knew about Officer Winchester. The scars on his forehead and neck drew intrigue from the women. He was distant but friendly. He tuned out the bad music and cleared his mind of everything but pouring beer and mixing drinks. When he had a free moment, he glanced at the end of the bar. That’s where it all started. Cas’s journey. He showed up to support his sous chef’s terrible band, and was now standing next to that same sous chef, thankful for the rubber gloves that would keep his poisoned blood away from others. Dean tried to let go of the guilt. All three cocktail waitresses gave him genuine smiles, he’d obviously been forgiven. 

He felt his phone go off and grinned before he even pulled it out of his pocket.

_“What does a guy have to do to get a beer around here?”_

He looked down the bar and tried to figure out how that familiar outline was able to squeeze into that same spot.

_“Blowing the bartender usually works. Or waiting patiently.”_

He watched Cas shake his head while he poured the beer and reached for a coaster.

\-------------------------

“So, what is a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

“Cheesy pick up line? Or actual question?”

“Does it matter?” Dean smiled.

“Not at all. How’s it going?”

“It’s bearable. I’ve got three somewhat pleasant cocktail waitresses, apparently my hit and run style has been forgiven. I’m guessing that at least one of them is watching us now and will let everyone else know that I have switched teams.”

“At least you have good taste in men,” Cas turned and grinned, picking up the beer.

“I have amazing taste in men. And I have drinks to make. I’ll be back.”

“Hey,” Cas called.

“Yeah?” Dean turned around.

“Do I really have to blow the bartender?”

“Yes, yes you do,” Dean winked.

\-------------------------

They read the pamphlets and filled their prescriptions through the clinic. They spent hours on the internet. Cas begrudgingly agreed to a workout regiment. They knew that they needed to drink less and eat healthy. They were still young, they were still strong, and this was something that they were going to need to live with instead of suffer from. 

\-------------------------

Dean was sick. He was pale, shaking, and couldn’t keep anything down. He assured Cas that he made an appointment at the clinic, seeing a regular doctor wasn’t an option. Cas was relieved when Dean told him that it was just a reaction to the medication. No two patients were alike and it took time to find the right combination. They treated their pills as if they were nothing more than vitamins needed to keep their bodies strong. 

\-------------------------

“You okay, kid?”

Dean lifted his head and looked at Bobby between his monitors. “Yeah, I’m good. Why?”

“I don’t know. You’re awfully quiet lately. You just seem a little off. Is everything okay with…”

“My private life is private, Bobby. We established that. Everything is fine at home. Everything here is mind numbing, just like it’s always been. I went back to working at the bar a few nights a week, maybe it’s kicking my ass a little.”

“It was kicking your ass before the…”

“That was months ago. Other than the badass scars, nothing has changed. I’m the same ray of sunshine that I’ve always been,” Dean grinned. He was tired, he felt run down, but he didn’t want to quit bartending. It got him out of the house and it was a distraction. 

“Ray of sunshine my ass,” Bobby mumbled. He worried about Dean. He was relieved when Dean had finally been cleared of any wrongdoing. He was relieved when the DA accepted a written deposition from him rather than making him appear in court. He just wanted to see the kid happy and healthy. He wanted to hear him bitch about Lefitte, make cracks about donut eating cops, sigh and roll his eyes when they had to spend hours sorting through pointless files. 

“Well, this ray of sunshine is headed to lunch. I’ll be back in a little while.”

Bobby just smiled when Dean stood up and he watched him walk away. Sometimes he wanted to go to that restaurant and talk with that chef. He knew that Dean had demons, he saw it while he was undercover, but that kid somehow saved Dean from himself and Bobby just wanted to thank him. 

\-------------------------

“Okay, so no tomatoes, but I tried something new. If you hate it, I’ll have my sous make something different.”

“You are going to let you sous make a sandwich for your boyfriend? Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that so loud.”

“Why? I know that they’ve all wondered which team I play for. They’ve never seen me talk to a woman, not even at the bar. You’re fucking hot as hell and you’ve been showing up for months. But, I think that Rachel might have a little crush on you, and it might dash some hopes, dreams, and late night fantasies.”

“Do not tell me that the hostess might be fantasizing about me. That just makes things awkward.”

“It’s only awkward…”

“If you let it be, I know. But now I’ll wonder if she’s undressing me with her eyes. I might even feel a bit objectified,” Dean grinned.

“Yeah, and it breaks your heart. Try the sandwich and tell me what you think.”

“Uh, fucking amazing,” Dean mumbled with his mouth full. “What in the hell is in this?”

“Hand smoked deli meats, artisan cheese, bread baked in house. We even made our own condiments. That is fresh mayo and dijon that my sous and I whipped up. So go with the in house condiments? Or no?”

“Uh, solid fuck yes. Do you know how hard it is to choke down the food they order at work to give us a ‘nice lunch’? When the head chef at The Cliffs brings you fucking leftovers almost every night, it ruins you for everything else. Amazing food and amazing sex all because I offered you some top shelf tequila,” Dean smiled.

“Oh, be prepared. The band booked another ‘gig’ next week. You may want to bring earplugs.”

“I’ve heard worse. I’ll just wait and see if the drummer’s boss is kind enough to show up and support his true dream of being a professional drummer.”

“You know that I will. There’s this green eyed bartender…”

\-------------------------

Cas glanced at the bar as he worked his way through the crowd. He watched Dean, the way he moved, the way his eyes lit up when he smiled, the somber look on his face when he thought that nobody was looking. They still had good days and bad days, the bad days fewer and further between. The doctor at the clinic had suggested therapy, but Cas knew that it was pointless. Dean wouldn’t talk. They had each other, and only each other. At times it was daunting, but it was how they were learning to live. 

Cas worked his way to his normal barstool and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He looked down the bar and watched Dean talking to a cocktail waitress. Cas had never seen her before. She was blonde and beautiful, reacting to Dean the way that most women did. He typed out the text but waited to send it. He watched them talk, he watched Dean bend down to whisper in her ear, he watched the way she pressed her hand against Dean’s chest and for the first time, he felt possessive. He couldn’t tear his eyes away when he hit send. Dean stepped back quickly and shrugged at the girl and he reached into his pocket. He read the text and picked up a glass and coaster. Cas turned away, focusing on the band, and waited for the beer to be set down on the bar next to him.

“Hey handsome,” Dean grinned, leaning on the bar.

“Pretty big crowd for a Thursday,” Cas said, taking a sip of beer without making eye contact.

“Who knows, maybe your sous’s band actually has a following. I know of one die hard fan. You okay?”

Cas finally turned and saw those green eyes in the dim light. “Yeah,” he smiled. “I’m fine.” He wanted to ask about the cocktail waitress, but knew that he was overreacting. Some days the emotions got the best of him, and maybe this was one of those days.

“Okay, just making sure. I’ve got some orders so I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Mmmhhmm.”

“Cas?”

Cas turned his head, “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

It was one of those days. “I love you too, Dean. Go make your drinks. As bad as this music is, getting these customers drunk is probably a public service.”

Dean flashed him a signature grin and wink before he walked away.

Cas hated himself for spending the rest of the night watching the blonde waitress as she moved through the crowded bar.

\-------------------------

“Touch yourself,” Dean demanded quietly from where he was kneeling between Cas’s legs, slowly burying his slick cock. Cas spread his legs and pulled his knees closer to his body, wrapping his hand around himself and slowly stroking. Dean squeezed his hips, tilting them and pulling their bodies together. Cas arched and moaned, He was was lost. He was at Dean’s mercy when he started to thrust, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of Cas’s thighs. Dean was needy, Cas was engulfed by the intensity, and their bodies moved forcefully. The pain, the pleasure, his own hand running up and down his shaft was pushing Cas to the edge. He looked up and saw Dean’s eyes glaze over, his chest heaving, his jaw starting to clench. He squeezed and stroked, crying out when he came. He was dazed when he heard the groan and felt the hard thrust. He reached for Dean and pulled his trembling body to him. He ran his fingers up and down Dean’s back, feeling the full lips against his neck. “I love you, Cas,” Dean said softly, lifting himself up on his elbows, their gazes locking. “I love you too.” Dean bent his head for a long kiss and pulled out, rolling on his back. “Are you okay?” Cas finally asked, breaking the silence. Dean turned his head and gave him a gentle smile. “Of course I’m okay. I’m just a little tired. Nine hours at the station, five hours at the bar, it’s been a long day.” Cas struggled to sit up, knowing that Dean would follow him when he climbed out of bed and walked to the shower. 

\-------------------------

“Maybe 14 hour days aren’t a good idea,” Cas said quietly, pulling the blanket over their damp bodies and pressing his lips to the top of Dean’s head.

“I’m fine.”

“I just don’t want you to wear yourself out.”

“What about you? On Saturdays you do brunch and then dinner. That’s what? 12 hours?”

“I know, but I do it once a week. You do this to yourself twice a week and then another shift at The Shoreline on the weekend. I just worry about you.”

“Listen,” Dean rolled on his side, pulling himself up on his elbow, searching for Cas’s eyes in the dark. “We are both healthy. We are taking care of ourselves and doing everything right. I’m just as tired after a 14 hour day as I was six months ago. We’ve talked about this. We control it, it doesn’t control us. It’s just been a long day, that’s all.” He bent down and pressed their lips together softly. “I love you, Cas.”

“I love you too,” Cas finally smiled, pulling Dean into his arms.

\-------------------------

“Hey Dean?”

“Yeah,” Dean moved his head and looked at Bobby.

“Do you have lunch plans?”

“You looking for a free meal at The Cliffs?” Dean grinned.

“No, asshole. I was wondering if you were free to go grab a bite.”

“Are you asking me on a date? I mean after all of these years, and you know about my personal life…”

“Shut up and answer the question.”

“Cas has a wedding reception booked for tonight,” Dean laughed. “The restaurant is closed to outsiders all day. So no, I do not have lunch plans.”

“Well, then let this old man buy you a burger.”

“I think that I can count on one hand the number of times you’ve bought me lunch in the seven years we have worked together,” Dean smiled.

“Shut up and grab your jacket. You’re driving.”

\-------------------------

“The only time a father figure buys a guy lunch is to either deliver good news, bad news, or to have the talk,” Dean mumbled, swallowing his mouthful of food. “Now, I don’t need the talk. I’m pretty sure that I know where babies come from. I’m guessing that you dragged me here to tell me that you’re retiring.”

“The offer came up, I’d be crazy not to take it.”

“Hell, Bobby, I’m happy for you. You can sleep in, relax, do...whatever in the hell it is that you do. So, when?”

“Next month.”

“Uh, okay,” Dean set his burger down and leaned back. “I wasn’t prepared for that.”

“I just talked to the powers that be about it yesterday. I wanted to tell you face to face and away from the station. There’s a decent chance that they aren’t going to replace me, kid. They may dismantle Organized completely and give it back to the Feds. You know that you have your pick of any department.”

“Uh yeah,” Dean said quietly, pushing his plate to the side. “I know that they’ll work with me. I’ve just never...you know it was patrol and then this. I don’t…”

“Well, have that discussion with whoever you need to have it with. I know why you’ve stuck with Organized, why you’ve stuck with me. I get it, kid. I appreciate the loyalty and I respect that you’ve bounced back from the shit that life has handed you. Patrol wasn’t easy on you, and Organized certainly hasn’t been a walk in the park over the last year. You’re a good cop, Dean. You’re a good kid. Best partner I’ve ever had. I know that you don’t like talkin’ about it, but you saved my fucking life. Retiring doesn’t mean that we won’t see each other. You just won’t have to sit at a desk and stare at this mug all day.”

“You say that like it’s a good thing,” Dean said, his voice shaking. “Shit, I almost feel like you’re breaking up with me,” he tried to smile.

“I never had kids…”

“Yeah, I know Bobby. I appreciate everything you’ve done. You’ve been pretty fucking patient when it’s come to dealing with my shit. Well, I guess it falls on me to throw you a hell of a retirement party. Maybe I’ll talk to Cas. Can you imagine the look on Lefitte’s face if you’re farewell was at The Cliffs?” Dean finally looked at Bobby, holding back tears but smiling. “I really am happy for you. Another 25 years and I’ll be the one taking some asshole to lunch to break the news. So it’s all official and shit?”

“I’ve started the paperwork. I suggest you talk to the big dogs before they get to you. Gain the upper hand and let them know that where you end up is your choice.”

“Yeah, well all I can do is give them a pretty please and hope that my record backs me up. My patrol file is sealed and it’s going to stay that way.”

“I’m going to delve into your private life, but I’m only going to do it once. I’ve seen a change in you over the last nine or ten months, and I know why. You’ve got something that is worth holding on to. You saw some ugly shit, kid. But, you had someone by your side to get you through it. At the end of the day, that means everything. Hold on to that and don’t give a fuck about what anybody thinks. He’s good for you and I have a feeling that he ain’t going nowhere.”

“You have no idea, Bobby,” Dean said softly. “I was in the right place at the right time and it was really nothing but dumb luck.”

“Dumb luck is what starts the ball rolling. It takes a lot more to keep it going.”

“Okay,” Dean took a deep breath. “Chick flick moment over, but thank you. I uh...I guess I need to have that discussion and make a decision. I appreciate you doing this, telling me away from the station.”

“I couldn’t let you hear it from anyone else. Now slide that plate back in front of you and finish your lunch. I can guarantee that this won’t be the last time this old man buys you a burger.”

“Thanks Bobby,” Dean whispered, pushing his food around on his plate.

\-------------------------

They didn’t have an active case so he spent the rest of the afternoon looking at what files he could from other departments, googling the things he needed to fill in the blanks. Cas would be home early tonight and he didn’t have to work at The Shoreline until tomorrow. He needed to come up with something, and he wanted to do it as soon as possible.

\-------------------------

He was writing furiously in his notebook when Cas showed up. He bent down to kiss him lightly before putting scraps in Balty’s bowl and unpacking the containers of food. “I’ve got wedding cake,” he smiled. He looked over and saw that Dean was still writing. “What’s going on?”

Dean closed his notebook and stood up to slide it into his bag. He never let Cas see them, and Can never tried. If Dean wanted him to know something, he would tell him. “I had lunch with Bobby today,” he sighed, running his hands up his face. “He’s retiring next month. He thinks that they’re going dismantle Organized.”

“So you…”

“I either move to a different department or I leave the force. I looked into it. There is no way I could do Special Victims. Homicide maybe, Vice maybe, but DEA seems like the best fit.”

“DEA? After the shit that happened?”

“I know, it sounds fucked up, but it’s the closest thing out there to Organized. They want a degree, I may not even qualify. But, I have the experience and I’m pretty sure they’d pull strings if I really want it.”

“Do you really want it,” Cas asked slowly, pulling plates out of the cupboard.

“I don’t fucking know,” Dean mumbled, leaning his elbows on the kitchen island. “I do know that I need a drink. I know we agreed to cut back…”

“No, pour one for each of us and I’ll get dinner ready.”

\-------------------------

“Bobby thinks that I need to jump on this. Make a decision and take it to the higher ups. He also thinks that you and I need to discuss it first.”

“He said that,” Cas’s eyes widened.

“Yeah. I told you that he knows. Being with a cop isn’t easy, especially one as fucked up as I am. My decision affects your life too. I can ask to have a desk in another department, but there’s no guarantee. I told you after that shit went down at the warehouse there was a part of me that felt like a real cop. Protect and serve. Yeah, it fucked me up. Shit, it fucked us both up. But, I did what I was trained to do instead of pushing papers Maybe I’ve spent seven years hiding. Maybe I should leave the force altogether.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to be the guy who makes a change,” Dean said quietly, looking into Cas’s eyes. “I want to do the right thing.”

“Leaving isn’t an option, I think that we both know that,” Cas said, taking a sip of his drink. “What would you do? It’s in your blood. I support you no matter what you decide.”

“DEA doesn’t scare you?”

“It all fucking scares me,” Cas looked at Dean with watery eyes. “But I told you before, I fell in love with you knowing who and what you are.”

“You fell in love with a guy who stared at a computer all day.”

“No Dean, I fell in love with a guy who put his life on the line to save people. Yeah, it wasn’t easy, but I knew there was a chance. I was falling in love with you while you were undercover. I’m not going to lie, it was fucking rough. But, it’s who you are. The decision is yours, not mine.”

“No, Cas, it’s ours. You were scared when you didn’t know where I was, if I was dead or alive. What if that happens again?”

“Then I hope for the best. I hope that you’ll come home. Maybe bruised and battered, but alive.”

“So I make the decision alone?”

“I think that you’ve already made it, you just want my permission. I can’t do that. Whether I like it or not, I can’t ask you to sit at a desk. All I can do is have your back and love you.”

“So you’re really okay with it?”

“I’m okay with you being happy. Now let’s eat. I think that logically a deep conversation should end with leftover wedding cake and then hot shower sex.”

“I’m okay with that,” Dan smiled, walking around the island to pull Cas into his arms. “I am such a fuck up, and you just stay by my side. I don’t think that I will ever understand it.”

“So stop trying,” Cas whispered, pressing his lips to Dean’s temple. “I love you, that isn’t going to change.”

“I love you too, Cas.”

\-------------------------

Cas laid his head on Dean’s chest and listened to his heart beat. His scars had faded, the one on his forehead just a thin jagged line. The one on his neck still thick and purple. Dean needed to do what was right, he needed to try and save people. That’s who he was. He knew that Dean saw the fear in his eyes while he heard the words of encouragement. This was just another chapter and he needed to be ready for what lied ahead.

\------------------------- 

It was raining when Cas got out of the cab and tipped the driver. He knew that he’d be drinking, and he’d be drinking top shelf. Dean wasn’t going to discourage him, not tonight. He knew that Dean had made his decision and he was trying to accept it. He worked his way into the bar, knowing that getting his regular barstool wasn’t going to be easy. He looked for Dean and finally saw him, smiling while the blonde cocktail waitress whispered in his ear. He stood anonymously in the middle of the crowd and watched. He saw Dean’s eyes dart before he followed her into the back. He waited for Dean to come back out, and he was all smiles when he did. He watched Dean rest his hand on her shoulder and run it slowly down her arm, squeezing her hand and winking before she walked away. He almost turned around and went home. He elbowed his way to his bar. The regulars knew which stool belonged to him. He sat down, but didn’t pull his phone out of his pocket. Ten minutes went by, then 15, then 20 before he heard the voice.

“What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

“Waiting for some good music to finally come out of Seattle.”

“Um, okay. Do you want a drink?”

“Top shelf.”

Dean silently turned around, grabbed a shot glass and reached for the bottle. He set it down next to Cas and leaned on the bar. “Is something wrong?”

Cas didn’t know what to say. He was making assumptions and he knew it, but it still stung.

“Is it the DEA thing?”

“No, it’s not the DEA thing. We covered that at length.”

“What in the hell is going on, Cas?”

He couldn’t stop himself. “New cocktail waitress?”

“You mean Ruby?”

“Is that her name?” Cas downed the shot and set the glass on the bar a little harder than he intended. He felt Dean refill it.

“I uh...I’ve got some orders waiting for me. I’ll be right back.”

“Hey, you do what you need to do. This is your job, I’m not here to take up all of your time.”

“Cas…”

“It’s your job, Dean. I’ll just be here hoping that the band is tolerable.”

He felt Dean walk away and dropped his head. He was being immature and he knew it, but he couldn’t stop watching the blonde as she walked around. She walked to the bar and Cas somehow felt her talking to Dean, touching him. Maybe she didn’t get the memo about the green eyed bartender. He downed the shot and slid the glass to the edge of the bar where Dean could see it.

“Hey,” Dean bent over the bar and tried to talk quietly. “Are you looking for a third?”

“I don’t drive after two, but I took a cab.”

“Cas…”

“It doesn’t have to be top shelf.”

“Okay, what in the fuck is going on?”

“The first time we met I sat on this same stool and was a total asshole,” Cas scoffed. “Maybe I’m feeling a little sentimental.”

“Is this about Ruby? She’s new, she’s still training.”

“No,” Cas turned and looked at Dean. “It’s about me. Apparently this barstool brings out the best in me. I’m ready for that third.”

“Shit, have a fourth or a fifth. I’m not encouraging you to drink, but you know that you have a ride home after I close.”

“Yeah, I know,” Cas sighed. “So, let’s work on getting me good and drunk. It’s been a long day.”

Dean silently poured the shot and walked away.

Cas couldn’t help but turn his head. He knew that all Dean could see was his outline, he wouldn’t really know where he was looking. He watched Dean smile and laugh. He watched her wrap her hand around his wrist. He watched them look around. Then, he watched them go in the back. He downed the shot and worked his way through the crowd. He could feel the color in his cheeks and the tears in his eyes. He stood in the shadows, cold and wet from the rain, while he waited for a cab. He went back to his condo and poured a tumbler of scotch.

_“Where are you?”_

_“Did you leave the bar?”_

_“Seriously, what in the fuck is going on?”_

He dropped his phone on the coffee table, locked the front door, and laid down on the couch. He knew that he still had a few hours, plenty of time to drink himself to sleep.

\-------------------------

He was in bed, somewhere between wakefulness and light dozing when he heard the deadbolt. He waited and heard the rustling of clothes. He smelled Dean’s skin before he crawled under the covers. He reached for Cas, but Cas didn’t move.

“I know you’re awake.”

“And drunk.”

“Meaning that you don’t want to talk?”

“Meaning that it’s probably not a good idea right now.”

“So I’m supposed to let you fall asleep pissed off,” Dean tried against to pull Cas to him.

“I’m not pissed off.”

“You’re something and it’s freaking me out a little.”

Cas rolled over and could see the outline of Dean’s body laying on it’s side. “I’m confused and I’ve been drinking. What do you want me to say? I’ve spent almost a year watching women throw themselves at you. Not one time in that year have I seen you reciprocate.”

“I wasn’t...Cas...I just…”

“I’m being a dick, and I’m well aware of it. An insecure dick, which makes it even worse.” He rolled his body into Dean’s arms and tried to relax. “It’s late, later than normal and I have brunch to serve in the morning.”

“I stopped by my place to check on Balty.”

“I didn’t ask where you were. Please, let’s just get some sleep.”

He felt Dean’s lips against the back of his neck and closed his eyes. He hated how he felt. 

“I love you, Cas,” Dean said quietly.

“I love you too,” Cas finally said after a short silence.

\-------------------------

Dean rolled over and smelled the coffee. He threw his boxers on and followed the scent. He sat down wordlessly and watched Cas cook. “Are we okay?”

“We’re good,” Cas said quietly, sliding breakfast on a plate and setting it in front of Dean.

“I know you’re upset...” Dean’s voice shook. 

“No, I’m not,” Cas sighed, reaching in the refrigerator for Dean’s flavored creamer. “I had too much to drink, that’s all.”

“Okay,” Dean said softly, standing up to pull Cas into his arms. “So here or my place after you’re done with brunch?”

“I should be able to scrounge up some leftover bacon for Balthazar. I’ll just stop by your place when I’m done.”

“You know that I love you more than anything, right?” Dean pressed his lips against Cas’s temple. 

Cas finally relaxed and wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist. “I know,” he whispered.

\-------------------------

“I’m guessing that you talked to Singer.”

“He wanted me to hear it from him,” Dean shifted in the chair, knowing that his life might change drastically after this meeting. “I wanted to talk to you about what’s going to happen to Organized.”

“I know how rumors fly around here. Sometimes I think it’s worse than a group of high school girls. I’ll be honest, we have had some serious conversations about dismantling it when Singer retires. Granted, you did a hell of a job taking down that sweatshop, but for the most part it is a quiet department and the feds don’t mind taking it back. We could use the manpower elsewhere.”

“Manpower? As in me?”

“I’ve already told you, Winchester, you are a hell of a cop and any unit would be lucky to have you.”

“I uh,” Dean cleared his throat and tried to stop his hands from shaking. “I know that the DEA requires a degree, which I don’t have. I went through training and then straight to patrol. I know that you don’t need my resume, but three years on patrol in Oakland and seven years up here in Organized Crime. I don’t know if my experience means anything…”

“What you did with that sweatshop, that’s the shit that matters. You proved yourself. Is the DEA something that you want?”

“It is. I understand if it isn’t possible.”

“I can make a few calls and try to pull some strings. I’ll see what I can do. I know that Singer will still be around for a few weeks, that gives me plenty of time to work something out. I hope you understand that the DEA is a whole different ballgame, Winchester. I don’t doubt that you can handle it, but it isn’t a desk job.”

“I understand that. We all have our reasons for being in this line of work, I think that I started to lose sight of mine.”

“Well is sure as hell isn’t for the money or the great hours. We’ll meet again in a couple of weeks and go over your options.”

“Thank you, sir,” Dean smiled, standing up and offering a firm handshake. 

\-------------------------

Cas was able to talk the owner of the restaurant into letting the precinct hold a retirement party for Bobby after Sunday brunch. He knew that he could be convincing, he knew that his sincere speech about honoring a police officer for his years of service would bring out emotions, and he knew that they needed him. The agreement was that the precinct had to pay for the food, but they would get it at cost. Dean was able to get everyone at the station to pitch in. As much as Bobby tried to be a grumpy asshole, he was still well loved. The staff offered to work for free. They all knew about Cas and Dean, they all knew that Dean was a hero, and they knew that Bobby Singer was the officer whose life he had saved. They set up a buffet and opened the doors.

Bobby was genuinely touched. He was given farewell gifts, bottles of liquor, gift cards to restaurants, and his favorite, a weekend cruise to all of the best fishing spots from Gang Enforcement. He was given embarrassing gag gifts, and laughed every time he opened one. He saw the surprise on Dean’s face when Rachel brought out the cake. Neither of them expected it, only Dean realized that Cas had made a deal with a pastry chef and he’d done it on his own dime. The officers and staff from the station came and went, most telling a story about the time that Bobby had done this or the time that Bobby had done that. Dean knew that he was expected to say something, but he hadn’t written anything down. He needed to look at the man who had been his rock for the last seven years and speak from the heart.

“Well, I have to admit that I am feeling a little sorry for myself right now and I’m hoping that the alcohol kicks in,” Dean smiled. “I showed up here seven years ago as a punk kid straight off of patrol in Northern California. They sat me at a desk across from this guy and handed me a file of the most boring case that you can possibly imagine. 17 pyramid schemes, 14 real estate investment scams, seven credit card rackets, three chop shops, and one distribution of bad knock offs later, it’s time to say see you later. Bobby, you’ve been my partner, my friend, and a father figure to me. You have looked at this face every day and you’ve put faith in me. You put your life in my hands. When I was alone and I needed somebody, you were there. You have called me an asshole, talked down to me, and encouraged my ongoing battle with Lefitte. I wouldn’t have it any other way. You are taking Organized Crime with you because without the partnership of Singer and Winchester, it doesn’t mean anything. The past year, I couldn’t have done it without you. I’m going to miss the hell out of you and your insults. I may need Lefitte to step up once in awhile to put me in my place. I wish you happiness, health, and a whole lot of time to do absolutely nothing. The station won’t be the same without you, but you’ve earned this. I’m going to miss you, big guy. To Bobby!” Dean raised his glass, not knowing that Cas was standing in the kitchen doorway, not seeing the tears building in the other officers eyes. “I love you, man.”

The restaurant was filled with men and women lifting their glasses and repeating, “To Bobby!”

Dean wiped his eyes and wrapped his arms around the grumpy old man who was trying to hold back his own tears in a long bear hug.

“I guess it’s my turn,” Bobby chuckled. “I’ve spent over 30 years as part of the force and I ain’t just saying this because he is standing here, the last seven have easily been the most memorable. Winchester, you have been a pain in my ass since day one. Too smart, too charming, and too goddamn good looking for your own good. But, I’ve never known a better cop and I’ve never had anybody put their life on the line to save my sorry ass. I’m actually going to miss you, kid. As pathetic as it may be, you all are the closest thing that I’ve had to a family in years. I want to thank you all, especially Lefitte for making my days more interesting,” Bobby grinned. “Maybe someday you and Winchester will come to a coffee peace agreement. I’m sorry that I’ll miss it. It’s been one hell of a ride, but I’m proud to say that I was part of this team.”

“To Bobby!”

Bobby looked around the crowded restaurant, but he didn’t see Dean. He smiled and shook his head. That kid was sensitive and would either be his downfall or his way of being the one of the best DEA agents this precinct had ever seen.

\-------------------------

“You okay?” Cas questioned softly.

“Yeah,” Dean whispered, leaning against the brick wall behind the restaurant. “It’s just…”

“I know,” Cas said quietly, pulling Dean into his arms.

“I’m going to miss the guy. Hell, I’m going to miss being a part of Organized Crime,” Dean sniffled and wiped away the tears. 

“It’s time for both of you to move on, but that doesn’t mean that you won’t be a part of each other’s lives. He will always feel like he owes you his. It’s a new chapter, Dean.”

“The boy becomes a man?”

“No,” Cas chuckled. “The man moves on and finds his place. Change isn’t easy, but you can do this.”

“I know,” Dean pulled away and reached for Cas’s hands. “It’s all a little overwhelming.”

“I know it is. So let’s get back in there and finish the celebration,” Cas leaned in and kissed Dean gently. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Cas. Thank you for this, for the cake.”

“Don’t thank me. I didn’t even have to blow the pastry chef to get it.”

“I just can’t stay depressed around you, can I?” Dean laughed.

“Not if I can help it. Now get back in there.”

They kissed slowly and Cas followed Dean back into the building.

\-------------------------

Cas knelt patiently on the tile next to Dean, slowly rubbing his back. “It’s stress, that’s all.”

“I know,” Dean mumbled, hoping that he wouldn’t get sick again. “It’s just a new world. Sure, I’m agent Winchester with the DEA now, but this has always just been in my periphery. It’s always been there to pass off cases. I know that it’s nothing but paperwork and ride alongs for awhile. They aren’t going to put me in the field anytime soon…” he retched, his stomach empty.

“Dean, you are the last Organized Crime detective that the Seattle PD ever had. That has to mean something.”

“Yeah,” Dean sniffled. “It means that the crown prince of racketeering has been dethroned.”

“No, it means that it’s time to move forward, one foot in front of the other.” Cas cringed when he felt Dean’s body spasm under his hands and reached for the bottle of water that he’d set on the bathroom counter. “Here, swish and spit and then you can lay down.”

Dean took it from him gratefully and looked into those indescribable blue eyes, wondering once again why Cas was always by his side. “I think I’m done,” he said quietly, finally standing up to reach for his toothbrush. “Why don’t you go find something to watch and I’ll be right behind you.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean leaned against the counter. “It’s just nerves.”

“I’ll be in the living room looking for a movie,” Cas said, pressing his lips to Dean’s neck. “You’re going to be fine.”

“I know I am. I love you.”

“I love you too, Dean.”

\-------------------------

Dean’s days were long and his eyes always weary. At times he questioned his decision to join the DEA, but knew that he couldn’t ask for a transfer. This was the life he chose and he needed to see it through. Cas never asked, he was just there, and much like Dean had said at Bobby’s retirement, he couldn’t stay depressed. 

\-------------------------

“Two days in a classroom and three ten hour ride alongs, I feel like I’m back in San Fran training. Only this time I’m older and nowhere close to wiser,” Dean groaned.

“I figured training wouldn’t be easy.”

“So did I. And I knew how many months I had to put in before they let me out into the field. Seeing it on paper didn’t look so bad,” Dean pressed his lips to the top of Cas’s head, setting the plate in front of him. “Why don’t we ever talk about your job?”

“What? You want to hear about the rack of lamb that we served last night?” Cas laughed. “You already know that there is absolutely nothing exciting about my job.”

“What about your sous,” Dean grinned. “What are you doing to do when his dreams of becoming a rockstar finally come to fruition and he has to put in his notice so that he can tour the world?”

“Let’s just say I’m not accepting applications quite yet.”

“Oh c’mon, they aren’t that bad.”

“Uh yes, they are,” Cas looked up from his plate and raised his eyebrows.

“They’re one of my favorite bands. I mean if they’d never found a way to play at The Shoreline, my life wouldn’t be what it is.”

“You can be so charming and sweet, it’s a little sickening,” Cas grinned.

“Hey, I was just talking about the free food. You’re the one making assumptions.”

“Asshole,” Cas laughed. “So, you’re really going to keep tending bar? You’re making more money now, you really don’t need to.”

“I never really needed to. It gets me out of the house.”

“And amongst the general population, which you hate.”

“True,” Dean smiled. “But, it kills time.”

“You know,” Cas rested his elbows on the table and looked into Dean’s eyes. “I’ve wondered what would happen if we didn’t have the schedules that we do. You work days, I work nights. Other than Sundays, we have to wait until either the restaurant or the bar closes to see each other.”

“You mean would we actually like one another if we spent a typical amount of time together? Probably not,” Dean grinned. “But the sex would still be hot.”

“Okay, now that’s true,” Cas chuckled. “So you’re saying that sex is the tie that binds?”

“Hey, it’s our reality. We need to accept it. Now can we explore that whole tying and binding thing a little further?”

\-------------------------

Cas asked himself if falling in love with a cop had been a mistake, and he felt sick. He’d spent almost a year catching Dean, holding Dean, whispering the words that Dean needed to hear. 

He listened to the soft snore and replayed so many moments. The good times. The creases in the corners of Dean’s eyes when he smiled. The easy sense of humor. The soft murmurs and promises of love. 

He thought about the night that Dean asked him what he brought to this, and he remembered his answer almost word for word. He still believed all of those things, that hadn’t changed. Dean made him feel things, but sometimes he looked at it on paper and saw where it looked one sided. He’d spent close to a year giving Dean time, waiting for the moment when he finally found peace, knowing that it would come. The jokes and laughter, the times when they held hands and walked on the beach, the nights when they made love for hours, those wouldn’t be things that Cas longed for. Those things would be normal, normal enough that he sincerely hoped that someday he would take them for granted. 

Dean was loving and he was passionate. His past, his flaws, his demons...they weren’t his fault. Life had kicked him when he was down, and Cas was there to pick him up. He didn’t have regrets, he never once considered walking away, he just wanted Dean to find himself. He wanted to stop taking two steps forward just to take one step back. 

Dean needed to talk to someone, someone other than him. He needed to let go of his fear and his guilt. He needed to look at his life, their life, and be able to rest his head on his pillow believing that he was making the right decisions. Cas needed to find a way to make him see that he needed to get help. He would be met with resistance, but Dean had promised that he would do anything for him and he’d never doubted it. 

He laid in Dean’s arms, unable to close his eyes, feeling and smelling the warm skin pressed against his own. He moved his body closer and sighed. He had to do it on Sunday after he was done serving brunch. Those were the days when they had time, when they had hours to spend together and he knew that a conversation like that would take hours. He finally closed his eyes and tried to drift off.

\-------------------------

“But you worked tonight.”

“I know. We have a shipment coming in after closing tomorrow and I told the boss that I’d take the shift and stick around to help unload and restock.”

“Dean, between your day job and The Shoreline, you are wearing yourself out.”

Dean sighed and dropped his head, staring at his plate. “We’ve talked about this. You work six days a week, double shift on Saturdays. I work a few nights a week at the bar. I can’t sit here every night doing nothing. I’d be crawling out of my fucking skin.” He saw Cas’s eyes drop and his fork start pushing food around. “Listen, after this weekend I’ll cut back. I’ll do two days at The Shoreline. I’ll let them know that they need to take me off of the schedule for one of the days during the week.”

“I’m not telling you what to do,” Cas sighed, knowing that in all reality he was.

“I know you’re not. You never have. I get it. I’ll let them know tomorrow.”

“Can we go somewhere on Sunday after I finish brunch?”

Dean saw Cas lift his eyes and their gazes locked. “Yeah, of course. Where do you want to go?”

“Somewhere that isn’t an apartment or condo. Somewhere that isn’t a restaurant or bar. Somewhere that neither one of us has to throw a stick for the dog. I don’t know, just get in the car and drive until we find a place to stop. I feel like the walls are closing in and I need to fucking breathe.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Cas smiled softly. “Our lives are busy and sometimes complicated and I just want to get away from that bullshit for a few hours.”

“You’re right, it would do us both some good to get the hell out of here for awhile.”

\-------------------------

Dean smiled when he leaned back against the headboard and watched Cas crawl to him, finally straddling his hips. Cas was anticipating the slick fingers when Dean pulled their bodies close, one hand pressed against the side of Cas’s face while they kissed deeply, the other between them, moving and stretching, waiting for the gasp when his finger grazed the spot that took Cas somewhere else. He was kissing and nipping with desperation, trying not to pull blood to the surface when Cas rose up onto his knees and slowly slid his body down Dean’s cock. Their bodies moved together in a perfect rhythm, chests sliding against one another, Dean’s hand slowly stroking Cas. They shifted and arched, soft sighs and low moans escaping their lips. They became intoxicated by the heady scent of musk and raw sex. It was fluid and easy, both knowing what the other needed to make it last, to stay on that sultry cusp. Cas dug his fingers into Dean’s shoulders, pressing their lips together, groaning when he would feel the velvet skin of Dean’s palm slide across the head of his cock. Dean tensed, pushing his body against the headboard when his stomach tightened. “Oh god,” he moaned, letting go of Cas’s cock and reaching for his shoulders, pulling their bodies together and burying himself deep. He leaned forward, pulling out and laying Cas on his back, bending down to take him in his mouth. Cas was already close, and the unexpected wet warmth, the rough tongue swirling around the silky skin of his shaft was almost excruciating. He felt the moan and pressed his hands to the back of Dean’s head, crying out. His chest was heaving when he watched Dean gently suck and lick until he was limp.

“Holy shit,” Cas panted. “I did not expect that.”

“That was kind of the idea,” Dean rolled on his back and smiled. “I didn’t know if I had the energy or flexibility to pull it off.”

“No, no, you definitely did. I don’t know if it was naturally ability or because you work out, but feel free any time…” 

“I can’t make it my go-to. I need to keep up the element of surprise. You know, make sure to change things up and keep it interesting.”

“Uh, it’s always interesting.” Cas turned his head and grinned at Dean. These were the moments he lived for. Not just the sex, the relaxation, the humor, the love. Nothing existed outside of that room. This was them at their best. “I love you,” he said softly.

Dean pulled himself up on one elbow and pressed their lips together. The kiss was slow and passionate, their tongues sliding together, their chests emitting soft moans. “I love you too,” Dean said breathlessly. “I love you so much.” He ran his hand up the side of Cas’s face and bent his head for another soft kiss.

\-------------------------

Dean pressed his lips to the back of Cas’s neck and pulled him closer, burying his face in the damp hair that still smelled of shampoo. “You know that I would do anything for you.”

Cas sighed quietly. He so desperately needed to hear those words. “I know you would.”

“I love you Cas. God, sometimes I feel like I don’t even have the words…”

“Me too. I love you, Dean.” He wrapped his finger around Dean’s arms and closed his eyes.

\-------------------------

The last plate left the kitchen and Cas started to take off his apron. His crew had become used to him leaving and letting them finish up the night. He nodded and smiled, going into the bathroom to change his clothes. He felt good. Tomorrow he was going to talk to Dean, and he knew that Dean would listen, he would be receptive. He drove to The Shoreline and pulled into a parking spot.

\-------------------------

He stood in shock, being bumped around by drunken patrons while he stared at the bar. He’d felt possessive, almost jealous in the past, but now he felt defeated. The flirting was blatant, the subtle touching that they thought nobody would notice, the winks and grins. After the third time that Dean’s eyes darted before letting her lead him into the back, Cas finally left. He wasn’t going to talk to Dean tomorrow about getting help. He was going to talk to Dean tonight.

\-------------------------

He parked at the 24 hour market across the street from the bar and waited. He would have felt immature or foolish if he was unsure, but he knew. He just needed to see it. He watched the cabs line up and the crowd spill into the parking lot. There were some who stood around, smoking cigarettes and talking, but it didn’t take long until there were just a few cars left, including the Impala. He looked at his phone, and the thread of texts between him and Dean. He’d never erased them, they were all there. If he went back far enough, he could find the first text that Dean had ever sent him. He wondered how far back he’d have to go to find the first time that Dean had lied to him. A box truck pulled in and backed up. Cas watched the driver get out, push open the cargo door, and slide out the ramp. He saw the dolly with a stack of boxes roll slowly while somebody walked out of the bar. There was Dean. He sighed with relief and felt the heat crawl up his cheeks. Maybe he was wrong. He started the engine and looked up in time to see the other bartender get out of his car and walk to where Dean was standing. They shook hands and stood in the light talking. It was almost slow motion when Cas watched Ruby walk out of the bar, Dean wave at the bartender and truck driver, throw his arm around her shoulders, and walk past the Impala to a small sports car. He felt like he couldn’t breathe when he watched them kiss and separate so that Dean could get into the passenger seat. He had just seconds to decide what he was going to do. It took less than a minute for him to pull into traffic and stay just far enough back that he wouldn’t be noticed. The apartment complex was large, cars were pulling in and out. Ruby whipped her car into a covered spot and got out. Cas waited until Dean followed her across the lot before he parked. The living room light went on, but all he could see were shadows. The light from the bedroom was a soft glow when it came on. He waited, checking the time on his phone. He knew that Dean thought he’d be home around 4:00. He could almost picture it, Dean’s body, the way he moved. How bright his eyes were when he was in the moment, how he clenched his jaw when he was going to come. It was exactly what he’d seen last night in his own bed. He felt the tears but didn’t wipe them away, not until he saw the bedroom go dark. He was standing maybe 15 feet from the door when he heard it open, heard Dean’s laugh, and finally saw those green eyes. They widened when Dean stopped in his tracks. 

“Cas…”

Cas shook his head and scoffed, “I just thought I’d let you know that there’s something wrong with my deadbolt. It won’t unlock.” He walked towards Dean and stopped right in front of him, “I hope you used a condom,” he whispered in his ear. He didn’t look at Dean, he couldn’t, when he got in his car, pulled out of the parking lot, and drove home.

\-------------------------

It took at least 15 minutes for his phone to ring, enough time for Dean to be dropped off at his car so that he wouldn’t be seen making the call. Cas just sat on the couch and watched his phone vibrate on the coffee table. He heard his text alert, and another call. He finally turned it on silent and laid down on the couch. He needed to be at the restaurant in a few hours. He needed to put on the face of somebody who didn’t feel like they were dying inside. 

\-------------------------

“Hey, Rachel,” Cas smiled. “Uh, if Dean shows up will you just let him know that I am slammed back there. Tell him that I’m down a prep cook and I don’t have time to talk. Thanks,” he reached out and squeezed her shoulder before turning to walk away.

“Chef Novak…”

“Sorry Rachel, I’ve really got to get back there.”

She sighed and started sorting menus while she waited for brunch to start. Chef Novak had always dropped everything when the gorgeous cop showed up. She checked the patio and watched the staff fill the buffet table. She finally unlocked the door and for the first time hoped that she wouldn’t see Dean.

\-------------------------

Dean’s first couple of messages were pleas, him begging Cas to answer the phone or call him back. The next few were tearful and apologetic declarations of love, repeatedly asking for the chance to explain himself. They eventually became almost incoherent. He prepared himself. He knew that when he got home, Dean would be in the parking lot waiting for him.

\-------------------------

He leaned against the car with his arms crossed over his chest and waited for Dean to walk to him. His eyes were red rimmed and he was shaking, but Cas couldn’t feel sympathy for him. Cas couldn’t feel anything.

“Can we go inside and talk?”

“No.” Cas said firmly.

“You want to do this out here?”

“If you want to talk to me, Dean, then talk. If I go in there, I’m going alone. Now go ahead and start with the whole it’s not what I think thing. We both know that’s bullshit. It’s exactly what I fucking think.”

Dean ran his hands down his face, wiping away the tears that had been there for hours. “Okay,” he said quietly, “I’m not going to lie.”

“You fucked her.”

“Yeah,” Dean’s voice broke.

“Just last night?”

“No, there was another time.” Dean looked away, he couldn’t meet Cas’s eyes, but he could feel the stare. “I fucked up.”

“Yeah, you did. What has it been, a year now? I’m not going to give you some bullshit routine about how much we’ve been through, or that somehow you owe me something. I don’t give a shit about that right now. All I can say is; if you wanted this to end, if you’re done, you should have been man enough to tell me.”

“I don’t want this to end.”

“So this is the part where we talk about having your cake and eating it too. Out of curiosity, who’s the cake? Me or your little blonde friend?”

“Cas, you don’t understand…”

“No, you don’t get to say that to me. There are facts here, Dean. I didn’t show up last night because I felt a twinge of jealousy. I showed up because I fucking knew. So do not stand there and tell me that I don’t understand. If you want to go back to playing for team hetero, go for it.” All Cas could do was shake his head. “Grow the fuck up.” He pushed away from his car and started walking towards his condo. He was still numb, too numb to even be angry.

“I was just using her, Cas.”

“For what?” Cas turned around, his eyes blazing. “Better blow jobs? You woke up one day and realized that you miss pussy? Or are you just trying to systematically work your way through the cocktail waitresses at The Shoreline one by one so that you can say you fucked ‘em all? It doesn’t matter why you did it.” Cas looked into those green eyes, full of torment like he’d never seen. “There is nothing that will justify it. There is nothing that will make it okay. I can’t forgive this.” He was almost to the door when he heard it. It was soft and it was pathetic and it made him cringe.

“For pills, Cas.”

The silence was heavy, neither of them could move. Cas finally took a deep breath. “How long?”

“Since the warehouse.”

Cas turned slowly, “So all of those times when you were sick…”

“Yeah,” Dean said quietly, unable to meet Cas’s eyes. “They made me numb. They made it so that I didn’t have to think about anything, I could make the pain go away. My ribs healed, my neck and my head, but the rest was still there. What I saw, what I went through. Then I got my diagnosis, and you got yours. I still can’t forgive myself. No matter how many times you tell me that it’s not my fault, it is. I was careless and you have to pay the price. I’ve tried to stop. I’ve tried to stop so many times and it lasts for a couple of days until I can’t take it anymore. The doctor shopping, using my scars and sob stories to get a few here and there, nobody thinks that a cop might be an addict.”

“And somehow that little blonde bitch was able to hold your cock hostage?”

“She has a connection. Whatever I wanted, no questions asked, but it all went through her. I gave her the money, she gave me what I needed.”

“But she wanted a little extra.”

“I’m not proud of it, Cas. This, right here, this is about as low as it gets. This is rock bottom. If I lose you, I have nothing. I’m a DEA agent who pops pills and now I’m alone because I fucked up. I am sorry, for everything. I’m sorry that I dragged you into my mindfuck. It’s been all about me and my demons and I know that.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me? Why didn’t you let me help you?”

“All you’ve ever done is help me. I thought that I could deal with this on my own. I went days before my piss test at work, and I wanted to die. I keep telling myself that each pill is the last and that I’ll just let my body do what it needs to do, but I can’t.”

“You should have told me. You owe me that much. You didn’t give me the chance to help you. I stood in a parking lot at 3:00 in the morning while you fucked a cocktail waitress. We didn’t have to end up here. It didn’t have to be this way.”

“I didn’t know what else to do,” Dean cried. “I have done nothing but fuck up your life…”

“Stop with the goddamn pity party. I took you to my bed and held you the night you told me about Oakland. I was by your side every fucking step of the way when you were undercover. I am HIV positive. I have dealt with your mood swings. And now I know that I was there for you when you were dopesick. I wasn’t obligated to do any of that. It was all by choice. I didn’t have to answer my fucking door when you came back. I didn’t have to make you stay. I could have walked away at any time, but I haven’t because I thought that the man I saw when I looked at you, that he was honest and real. That he trusted me. That he felt safe when he was with me. That he would always be by my side. Now, I don’t know what to think.”

“I love you, Cas.”

“How do you even know that? If you truly feel like all you’ve done is fuck up my life, then what does love even mean to you? I wasn’t going anywhere. I was in this for the long haul. Your job, your health, your baggage, I took it all on and I never regretted it, none of it. Now, I don’t even know what any of this meant to you. Is it all just band aids for you? Is that what I’ve been?”

“No, Cas. You are the only fucking thing that has been real. The rest, it’s just all fucked up white noise and I know that I did it to myself. Maybe I should have opened up when I had a psych eval seven years ago instead of sealing my records and crawling up here with my tail between my legs. I have had chance after chance to get help and I have avoided it every single time. I tell people what they want to hear so that they’ll stop asking questions.”

“Oh, well that’s fucking comforting.” Cas turned and started walking away.

“I don’t mean you, Cas. Never with you.”

Cas stopped and walked back to where Dean was standing, tears streaming down his face. “That’s bullshit, Dean. I stood in a fucking parking lot while you fucked a cocktail waitress and the sickest part was that I could picture it because I know you. Do not stand here and tell me that you’ve never lied to me or told me what I want to hear so that I’d stop asking questions.”

“You’re right, you are,” Dean ran his hands up his face. “I have lied to you. I...I’m sorry, Cas. I wish that I was the man you thought I was. I’d love to be that guy. But you, you are so beautiful and I have absolutely nothing to offer you. That’s not a pity party. That’s me being honest. I wish I could take it all back. I wish that…” Dean looked up when he felt the fresh tears. “It doesn’t fucking matter what I wish because the damage is done. I had something amazing and I fucked it up. I will always love you, Cas. You’re it, you’re the one. You don’t deserve this shit. You deserve to be happy, that’s all I want for you.” He pressed his lips softly to Cas’s forehead and turned to walk away.

“So get clean,” Cas said softly. “The only way we are going to know if this can be fixed is if you try to fix it. I can’t do it for you.”

“That’s what you want?”

“This isn’t about what I want. This is about what you want, and how badly you want it. I love you, Dean. That isn’t going to change. If the day comes when you need me as something more than a crutch or a temporary fix, you know where I am. Right now, I need time.” Cas walked away and unlocked his door, leaning against it and sliding down the floor when it closed. He dropped his head between his knees and cried.

\-------------------------

Cas went through the motions, but that’s all he did. When he was home he just paced, wandering from one room to another. He wasn’t eating or sleeping, he knew how he must look. He finally called the clinic and set up an emergency appointment with a therapist.

\-------------------------

He told her everything and he fell apart. The appointment ran long, she never got a chance to take lunch that day. He talked about Dean, how it felt to fall in love with a cop, how he felt when he got his diagnosis, how he felt about Dean’s addiction. She agreed that Dean needed to get help before they could move forward. She suggested that Cas stay in some form of contact with him, preferably via text, so that Dean knew that he wasn’t alone and so that Cas knew that Dean was okay. He left the appointment feeling better than he’d felt in days. 

He spent the drive home trying to figure out how to word a text to Dean. How to let him know that he loved him, that he was still a part of his life. He got home, dropped his keys on the counter and draped his jacket over the back of a chair and stopped. He saw them in the middle of his living room, three boxes. He was shaking when he walked slowly towards them. One was labeled ‘Seattle’. One was filthy, covered in dust, it was labeled ‘Oakland’. The last was labeled ‘Cas’. On top was Dean’s award, his award for his heroic conduct in the line of duty. And, there was a letter. He was afraid to touch it, he didn’t want to pick it up. His hands shook when he poured a drink and finally reached for it. He sat on the couch and stared at it, unable to open it. He finally slid his finger under the flap and opened the envelope, pulling out the sheets of paper. 

_Cas,_  
_You told me that this is about what I want and how badly I want it, but that’s what it’s always been about and I see that. I was drawn to a sarcastic and witty chef sitting at the end of a bar, and it turned my world upside down. The first time I saw you I knew, without understanding why, that I needed you. I trusted you, I always trusted you and I know that up until the end, you trusted me. I told you things because I couldn’t hide from you. You saw it all in my eyes, my story was there. I said the words, but a part of you already knew it. You saw me when I couldn’t see myself. You found me when I didn’t know that I was lost. You never asked anything of me other than my time and my loyalty. I failed you. I was selfish with my time and I was not loyal at the end. I lied, I found a way to hide from you, and I hate myself for it. You gave me purpose, you made me believe, you are beauty embodied. I treasure every moment that I spent with you. You asked me what love means to me. It means holding somebody until their body stops shaking. It means throwing a stick for a dog while you’re jogging, when you don’t like jogging or dogs. It means listening, but ultimately supporting decisions that you didn’t make. It means helping somebody accept an illness that you know about, and being there for one that they are hiding. You are everything that I am not. You are everything that I strive to be. My love for you, it is unrelenting, unyielding, and unending. It will always be a part of you, I will always be a part of you. I’ve offered you apologies and excuses, you offered me blind faith. I didn’t earn it, but you gave it freely. You are it, you are the one, that will never change. Maybe I don’t know what love means, but I know who I was when I saw love in your eyes. Your touch, your smile, the sound of your voice...they gave me a reason to breathe. What I feel for you is like nothing I have ever felt, but I selfishly depended on it when I wasn’t deserving. I’ve left you the three things that have had the most impact on my life, the things that led me to make the decisions that I have made. The last ten years of my life belong to you now. You can burn them, store them, or read them. The choice is yours._

_With all of the love that I have to offer,_

_-Dean_

Cas read it, he reread it, he tried to read it again through the tears. He considered driving to Dean’s apartment, but he knew that he’d find it empty. Dean was gone.

\-------------------------

He carried notebooks wherever he went, much like Dean once did. He would sit and read the small cramped writing. 

He knew how the memories of what happened in Oakland haunted Dean, but he’d never realized how profound it was. He didn’t know how truly ugly it had been for him. He watched children, scared and abused children, die by the hand of their own father. He held a brother in arms and felt his lifeblood seep into the thin fabric of his uniform. A uniform that he discovered Dean had burned, staring at the low flame and then pile of ashes for hours. He’d let part of the weight of that casket rest upon his shoulder, barely able to stand. He did drink, he did become violent, and he lied to the psychiatrist because he was afraid of himself. 

When he couldn’t take anymore, he slid the notebooks from the ‘Oakland’ box back inside.

He would sit and read through the notebooks from the box labeled ‘Seattle’. They were, at times, optimistic and dreamlike. His characterization of Bobby, loving and humorous. His description of the day he adopted Balthazar, touching and complete. His ongoing dispute with Benny Lefitte, comedic. His jogs along the water, his time spent watching the boats on the pier, all introspective and beautiful. The madness and disgust that he felt during the warehouse case was enough to bring tears. He’d hidden how difficult it was for him. Transforming himself into what he hated and feared the most, it caused so much damage. More than Cas had ever realized. ‘Jeremy’ made him physically ill, but he hid it because he couldn’t talk about it, professionally or emotionally. The aftermath of taking a life was much more esoteric than anybody realized. Life was precious, it was something to be protected. Watching a man take lives of innocents turned that man into a monster. He was not human. Dean could have accepted pulling the trigger that day. The inexplicable guilt that he felt for the life that he took was baseless, but he somehow still viewed that man as human. That reconciliation was ambiguous and complicated. It changed his life forever, his blood carried a constant reminder of the things that he saw that day.

He still couldn’t bring himself to open the box labeled ‘Cas’.

\-------------------------

The boxes sat along the wall in his living room, the plaque hanging above them, the letter sitting in the drawer of his nightstand. He had long ago thrown away anything related to sex. He wasn’t interested in sex. He couldn’t imagine his hands touching skin that didn’t feel like Dean’s. He couldn’t imagine curling his body around a body that didn’t smell like Dean’s. There were still t-shirts and pajama pants that had been left in his condo, and he slowly mourned the loss of their scent and warmth.

\-------------------------

He spoke to the therapist again. He told her about the boxes. She told him that he would never be free until he opened that third box. He was able to carry the other notebooks with him, holding a bookmark instead of a pen. He would read them at the staff table when he had rare moments to himself and shove them in his bag when he felt the sting of tears. He always knew that when Dean felt something, he felt it deeply and he no longer doubted Dean’s feelings for him. What he didn’t know was how complex Dean’s feelings were. The lies started to somehow make sense. The betrayal at the end still hurt, and hurt deeply, but it meant nothing to Dean. It was born of desperation, not deception. Dean saw the pills as his adversary. He saw that they were slowly chipping away at what he loved the most. His memory of the nights that he was unfaithful were flickering and automated. He derived no pleasure. 

With shaking hands and a rapid heartbeat, he opened the box labeled ‘Cas’.

\-------------------------

It was fluid and poetic. There was an attachment, a need, before they’d even spent time together away from the bar. 

The feeling of supple skin under his fingertips, the sweet lips pressed against his own, the shade of blue that he was never able to describe. Those were the notebooks that Cas read at home, excerpts standing out to be read repeatedly. A narrative of what Dean thought was love.

_“His smile, his sarcasm and wit, that shade of blue that I don’t understand has drawn me in. He doesn’t know me, I am afraid to let him know me. But when I clear my thoughts, I still see his eyes and hear his voice. He is perfection.”_

_“The memory of his hands on my skin was replaced by the tenderness of his hands sliding water, tylenol, and coffee across the counter. He fulfilled my needs hours after he satiated my desire.”_

_“I still can’t describe the shade of blue. His concern for ‘Dean’ is painfully clear, he has never met ‘Jeremy’. I can’t let him see how easily I am able to become that man. My adaptation into a world that ugly is nothing more than a stain that he does his best to wash away without question.”_

_“He touches me and the world falls away. I know that as long as he is by my side, tomorrow will come. His beauty, his grace, he is light to the dark that lives within me.”_

_“His need to feel me inside of him divided me. I will do anything that he asks of me, but I could not bear causing him pain. The darkness was a compromise. I desperately needed to become lost in his sounds of pleasure, and care for him until was satisfied. He has never asked anything of me until last night. His happiness is my responsibility, and one that I welcome.”_

_“My time spent with the worst that humanity has to offer has forever altered his life. My toxicity, my poison now runs through his veins and I will never forgive myself. His bravado is painful as I know it is for my benefit. I have changed him and he carries a daunting burden. I have learned to live, I worry that he is afraid of death. I would welcome death if I could take that virus from his blood. He gives me life. I would do the same if I thought that it was within my capability.”_

_“His passion, his need, his laugh, the way that he smiles at the ridiculousness that is life, it is a gift. I never knew that somebody as beautiful as him existed in this ugly world. Some nights I listen to him sleep and I wait for him to turn into vapor in my arms. I ask myself if he is real or if this is a dream.”_

Cas read those words, and so many others, while he drank and let the tears run freely. He could only get through a few pages at a time. He worried, Dean needed pills to keep him healthy, but was he taking the right ones? Had he found a clinic, or had he given up? Why couldn’t Dean say these things while they laid together in the dark? Why did it take a painful and shallow conversation in a parking lot to finally see the depth of Dean’s feelings?

The day that his house key arrived in the mail with no note, he left his sous in charge of the daily specials and spent hours playing with it, staring at it before finally setting it on top of the plaque on the wall. There was no return address on the envelope, but the postmark didn’t surprise him. He could find Dean. He could text or call, but if he truly loved Dean, he needed to leave him alone.

\-------------------------

He was surprised when Rachel came to the kitchen to tell him that he had a guest. Even more surprised when he saw Bobby standing uncomfortably in the lobby. He smiled and led him to the staff table where he would be more comfortable. He asked his sous to make lunch and sat down across from the burly older man.

“So, I don’t know what’s going on but I do still talk to some guys at the station. Word is Dean walked away from a gig at the DEA and went M.I.A.”

“And you’re wondering if I know where he is.”

“Well, I figured if anyone does, it would be you.”

Cas took a deep breath and tried to smile when the sous brought sandwiches to the table. “Do I know where he is? I think that I do. But, he left and I’m pretty sure that he doesn’t want to be found. Not by you and not by me. He has demons, Bobby. It runs a lot deeper than I realized. I tried to help him…”

“I know that you did. You mean everything to him, kid. I can’t imagine what would…”

“I love him. I always will. But, I can’t talk about his reasons for leaving. All I will say is that I feel like, in many ways, I finally understand him and it’s tearing me up,” Cas tried to hold back the tears. “I’ve learned things that I never knew, things that he kept to himself. If I thought that I could fix things for him, I’d be on a plane right now, but I can’t. I want you to know how much you meant to him, Bobby. He always looked at you like a father.”

“It feels like we’re having a funeral for the guy.”

“Maybe we need to,” Cas said quietly, finally letting the tears come. “To be honest, I don’t think that I ever really knew him. I saw what he wanted me to see, but it was so little. He tried to protect me. He tried to protect us all. The fact that you stayed at the hospital, I hope you know how important that was to him. I was at home afraid, and you were by his side. He found a way to survive being ‘Jeremy’ because of that.”

“You knew about ‘Jeremy’? He wasn’t supposed…”

“I recently found out. I didn’t know at the time.”

“So you really don’t think that he’ll come back?”

“I don’t know. He might, he might not, but I’m not going to hold on to hope. If we care about him, truly care about him, we need to leave him alone and let him deal with those demons.”

“How do you do it?”

“Honestly? I cry...a lot. That is probably the least manly statement that I have ever made, but I don’t think that you ever judged us.”

“I just wanted to see him happy. He changed when you showed up.”

Cas smiled slightly, “it wasn’t enough. Now, I certainly don’t mind you showing up for lunch. You are welcome any time. If you get bored on a weekend and want to rub elbows with the pretentious assholes and down a mimosa or two, it’s on the house. But, I can’t talk about him. Not yet.”

“No, I get it.” Bobby tried to smile and ate his lunch. “Well, I need to get going. If you need anything…”

“Thanks, Bobby. I’ll be okay. Like I said, any time you show up, it’s on the house. If you meet a nice girl, impress her with an expensive meal and a friendship with the head chef. If I happen to hear from him, I’ll let you know.”

Lunch with Bobby became a weekly event. Cas didn’t know if it helped or hindered, but he found some comfort in it.

\-------------------------

_“I lose myself in his words and his smile. In his eyes, the world isn’t an ugly place and I selfishly draw from that. If he saw things as I do, it would scar his perfection. I don’t want to be the man that I am, I’m not really a man.”_

_“I can lay awake for hours and just feel him against me. The scent of his skin. The sound of his even breaths. It is in those moments that I allow myself to see a future. A life together. Where we are laying doesn’t matter. When I am with him, I am home.”_

\-------------------------

Cas knew that there was only one journal entry left, but he couldn’t bring himself to read it.

\-------------------------

Bobby showed up at the restaurant and regaled him with stories about his fishing trip. He was already planning another and Cas couldn’t help but smile at his excitement. Lunch with Bobby helped him to escape the numbness. The stories and laughter shared were comforting. Although they never talked about him, they both loved and missed Dean. He was still chuckling to himself and smiling when he checked the mail. He had received a package. He knew what it was and he saw the postmark. He had to read the last journal entry.

\-------------------------

_“The walls are closing in, those were his words. I know what he wants, what he needs. It is time for me to be honest and do anything that he asks of me. I need him to tear off this mask and expose me. I need him to make me see myself. I have to change. The pity and the self loathing, I’ve allowed them to become a part of me. I need help. I need to feel him and look into those eyes. I need to know that I have something to offer him. I still don’t understand why he has stayed, but his touch is the only thing that will give me the strength to admit to my weaknesses. Love is not a strong enough word to express what I feel for him. Tomorrow, he will learn the truth.”_

Cas cried and held the notebook against his chest. Dean knew, he knew what Cas wanted of him. Cas didn’t know if Dean’s night with the cocktail waitress was something that he had planned, his way of saying goodbye to that life, but he was ready to say goodbye. Cas still hadn’t thought about forgiveness, he wasn’t in a position to forgive Dean. But now he knew that Dean had been ready to tell him the truth.

\-------------------------

_“I got on the highway heading east. There was no other direction for me to go. Ten years ago I ran away from the only home I’d ever known because I wanted to save the world.Three years later I ran away from the reality, the painful acceptance that I am not saving anything. Now I am running away from what made me complete. I’m broken, but I know that his love alone can’t heal me. Even at the end, he believed in me, he believes that I can fix myself. I will never ask him for forgiveness, it’s not my place. I am not responsible for his happiness, but I was dangerously close to being responsible for his downfall. I am already sick, but I have nothing to ease the pain. I need to do this, and I need to do it alone.”_

\-------------------------

Cas didn’t know why Dean had sent him this notebook. Maybe he needed to share his journey with the only person who may understand. The first few entries were almost agonizing. He didn’t cry while he read it. The man writing these words was a man that he didn’t know. It may be real, Cas believed every word of the cramped writing, but in his mind it was a work of fiction. 

He didn’t tell Bobby that he’d heard from Dean. He read the entire notebook and tucked it away in his nightstand with the letter.

\-------------------------

He looked at the clock and realized that Bobby would be there any minute. They were prepping for a wedding and he knew that he didn’t really have time to stop and have lunch, but Bobby was the only true friend that he had, and it kept him sane. Their lunches helped him to let go. He’d been able to move the boxes into his closet and take the plaque off of the wall. He handed Rachel the two sandwiches and nodded, letting her know that he would it would be a minute before he could walk away from the kitchen.

“Chef Novak?”

“Yes Rachel?” he tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

“These sandwiches…”

“What about them?”

“There are tomatoes on both of them.”

Cas’s heart dropped into his stomach. He moved past her before he could stop himself and stood in the kitchen doorway.

Dean was a little thinner. He had grown a beard and had a fresh haircut. He was nervously playing with his phone, but finally looked up. His eyes weren’t dull and sunken, they were bright and watery. They were both rooted in place, unable to move or speak. Dean finally shifted his eyes to the bench across from him and looked back at Cas. Cas nodded almost imperceptibly and sat down. 

“I uh...I didn’t know if you’d want to see me,” Dean looked past Cas, staring at the wall behind him.

“Jury’s still out. I wasn’t exactly given a choice.”

“Fair enough,” Dean nodded. “I skipped town like a total pussy, I know that.”

“No, you left because you couldn’t deal with shit here anymore,” Cas said quietly.

“Everything that I put you through, and you’re still making excuses for me,” Dean dropped his head. “You’re right, I couldn’t deal with shit here anymore, but that doesn’t mean that I handled things like I should have. Your last memory of me is a hopped up emotional mess in a parking lot.”

“You’re clean?”

“I’m clean.”

“So you’re at the step where you need to make amends with the people that you’ve hurt?” Cas finally lifted his eyes.

“Ouch,” Dean whispered. “Uh no. I’m not doing the 12 step thing. I looked into it, it wasn’t for me. Believe it or not, there are actually programs for cops who are addicts.”

“In Kansas?”

“Yeah. I’ve been doing outpatient recovery and therapy.”

Cas could feel the sting of tears. He’d wanted to be there for Dean, to hold him and assure him that he would be okay, but he was never given the chance. “That’s good, Dean. I’m happy for you, I’m proud of you. You look good. But I’m not really sure why…”

“You told me that I needed to fix this, fix myself. That I had to want it badly enough. I did, Cas. I do. I showed up on my parents doorstep so fucking sick. I told them, I told them everything. What happened when I was on patrol, what happened in the warehouse, my HIV status, and the pills,” Dean took a deep breath and ran his hands down his face. “I told them about you. That was the hardest part.”

“Admitting that you were with a man?”

“No, admitting that I finally fell in love but I fucked up. I never really let you in. I thought I did…”

“Hence the boxes in my living room?”

“Yeah,” Dean whispered. “I knew that it was too late, but I wanted you to know who I really am. Who I was. I wanted you to know all of the things that I couldn’t tell you. I owed you that much. I don’t know what you did with them, you don’t need to tell me. I gave them to you…”

“I read them, all of them. And I asked myself why you couldn’t just tell me the things that were in those notebooks. I asked myself if that year that I spent with you was even real.”

“My feelings were real, Cas. I lied, I hid, but what I felt was real. I know that you can’t say the same. I still can’t figure out what you saw in me. I didn’t know who I was, I hadn’t known who I was for a long time. So what you saw in me, it doesn’t make sense. I whined and I complained. I felt sorry for myself. I infected you with…”

“Dean, don’t. That’s not something we need to talk about.”

“Okay,” Dean sighed. “I uh...I wasn’t worth your time. This isn’t Dean Winchester throwing himself a pity party.”

“I know it isn’t,” Cas finally met those emerald eyes. “I’ve never seen you this calm.”

“Well, I’m eating right, working out, taking my medication, seeing a therapist, and I haven’t touched any of that shit since the last time you saw me.”

“That’s what I wanted for you. But I still don’t…”

“You weren’t a band aid or a crutch, Cas. You were a fucking lifeboat. You kept me alive when I didn’t want to live. I just wish that you’d met this guy,” Dean said quietly, looking at the ceiling, trying to stop the tears. “He has no job, he’s staying with a friend, but he still has a hell of a lot more to offer. The only downside is that he wouldn’t have been slinging drinks in a dive bar, so you probably wouldn’t have met him. That’s the only thing that I got right. I was in the right place at the right time. A beautiful and sarcastic chef ended up in my path.”

“I told you that I read those notebooks, Dean. Those words, that was all you. Fucked up or not, it was still in there somewhere and I knew it. I just couldn’t make you see it. The only time you felt safe was when you had a pen in your hand.”

“No, Cas. I felt safe with you. Fucking cheesiest line ever, but it’s true. The outside world, I let it fuck me up. But when I was with you, even when I talked about it, I could turn it off and none of it existed. At least until those last couple of months. Then it started to show up all of the time. I brought it into our life, into your life. I knew that you were going to ask me to get help, and I was ready to do it. But instead, I fucked up in the worst way possible. I completely betrayed your trust, and for that I am so sorry. I can’t imagine how it felt for you. I’ve tried, but I can’t. I don’t want a crutch, a temporary fix, or a band aid. I know it’s asking a lot, but I just want to introduce myself.”

Cas thought about all of those words that he had read, Dean’s innermost thoughts. His confessions and admissions. The pain and the doubt, the box labeled ‘Cas’ that still made it hard to breathe when he looked at it. “I already know you,” he whispered.

“No, you don’t. You know a broken fucked up version.”

“I read every word, Dean. Every word that you had written in the last ten years. About what happened in Oakland, what happened when you moved here, how you felt about me. It wasn’t all about a fucked up broken mess. There is an amazing man in there, I just had to see the words. I couldn’t read what you’d written about me, not for awhile. I let that box just sit in the middle of my living room until my therapist told me that the only way for me to live was to open it. I read all of them, but I did it at home alone. It was the only way for me to feel close to you. Those moments, those words were more intimate than any time we spent in bed together. Your fear of me seeing the real you, I felt like I couldn’t breathe when I realized how afraid you were because that’s all I ever wanted. I just wanted the real you. I didn’t need the apologies and excuses. I needed the cop who was damaged, the cocky bartender who showed off his body to boost his tips, the guy who opened up to me and told me things that he’d never told anybody, the amazing lover. Shit happened and mistakes were made, but you didn’t need to hide from me. Call it fucking selfish, but I just wanted to be the person who brought something honest and absolute into your life. I was willing to wait, to just be there. You know,” Cas chuckled softly, “I went and saw my therapist and she told me that I needed to stay in contact with you, for both of our benefit. I spent that entire drive home trying to come up with the words. I wanted to send you a text that just spelled it out. But when I walked into my condo, I found the boxes. Same fucking day. Somehow in a two hour span, I was ready to work things out and you were gone. I’m not blaming you. You did what you had to do, but what are the chances? It took me a few days until I finally moved them, lined them up against the wall and hung up that damn plaque above them. I read them, I re-read them. And then I took the plaque down and I put it all in a closet because no matter how much you wrote or how much I read, I was still sleeping alone. God, I just wanted the man who wrote those words next to me. I needed him so badly that some nights it physically hurt to crawl into that bed alone. You romanticized the hell out of me. I’m not as perfect as the guy you wrote about, but I know that you believed it when you wrote it. I know that’s how you saw me, and that was fucking everything.” Cas didn’t wipe away the tears, he knew that it wouldn’t matter. They weren’t going to stop any time soon. “You had no reason to be afraid of talking to me, because I saw the worst that you had to offer. Your silent suffering, your second guessing, your self loathing, I saw all of those things and I still fucking loved you. I loved the parts of you that you were afraid of. I still do. Shit, I have lunch with Bobby once a week but I still can’t bring myself to talk about you, and he’d be the only person who could come close to understanding how I feel. An addiction, it’s a fucking disease, Dean. Just like the HIV. I would have been by your side every step of the way. If you had just talked to me…”

“Instead of fucking a cocktail waitress,” Dean said softly. “I know that it probably doesn’t matter now, but it never meant anything.”

“I know it didn’t. That doesn’t make it right, but it makes it sting a little less knowing that you saved that passion for me. That I brought it out in you.”

“I haven’t been able to touch anyone else, I haven’t even thought about it.”

“Neither have I,” Cas quietly cried. “I can’t.”

Cas dropped his head and Dean reached across the table timidly to gently hold his shaking hand. “You can tell me to get the fuck out of here, and I’ll understand. But if any part of you wants to get to know this guy, I won’t go anywhere. I’ll keep sleeping on Bobby’s couch if you are willing to give me a chance. I have absolutely nothing to lose by telling you that I love you, Cas. I meant it when I told you that you are it. You’re the one, and if the damage is done then I’ll walk away because I have absolutely no right to show up here and ask anything of you. When I look back on the last ten years of my life, you are the one bright spot. If there is a chance in hell that someday you could look at me and I could see myself in those blue eyes, I’ll fucking wait.”

Cas looked at the clock and could hear the commotion in the kitchen. “We’re not done talking, at least I’m not. But, I have a wedding here in a couple of hours and I need to get back there. I’ll be home by 9:00.” He stood up and let himself be pulled into Dean’s arms. He closed his eyes when he felt the full lips on his temple.

“I love you, Cas. I’ll be wherever you want me to be.”

“Tell Bobby that he’s a sneaky fucking bastard,” Cas said quietly. “He’ll know what it means.”

\-------------------------

Cas knew that this was the only time he was actually happy to be setting up for a wedding. It was tedious and it was a pain the ass. Customers paid a lot of money and everything had to be perfect. But, he cleared his mind and dealt with the task at hand.

He was shaking when the party was leaving and the bussers and wait staff started to clean up. Rachel gave him an encouraging smile and he just nodded. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so anxious.

He saw the Impala when he parked and watched Dean get out of the car. He looked better than he had the first night they met. He was confident, serene, and he looked at Cas the way that Cas had always wanted him to. He silently followed Cas to the door and nervously draped his jacket over a chair.

“I need to go, uh, change. Go ahead and pour yourself a drink. Well, unless you’re not supposed to…”

“Technically, I’m probably not supposed to. But, I’ve had a few drinks since I left town. Alcohol wasn’t the problem.”

“Well, everything is in the same place.”

“Do you want one?”

“Desperately,” Cas tried to smile.

Dean poured the drinks and sat on the couch. He could see where the carpet had been flattened by the boxes and the small nail hole in the wall above. He remembered how hard it had been to bring them in, to stack them with the letter that he’d tried to write and rewrite for days. He watched Cas walk into the living room and he saw the same beauty and vitality that he’d seen the night that he’d told him he needed to be tested for HIV. That alone almost brought him to tears. He was surprised when Cas sat next to him rather than across from him. He either wanted to be close, or he didn’t want to be in a position to look into Dean’s eyes. Dean didn’t care. Cas had let him into his home, right now that meant everything to him.

“So, how’s Balty?”

“He’s okay. It’s been rough for him. He, uh, he couldn’t figure out why we drove for so long, why we didn’t end up at the beach. He would come sniffing at my hand the same time almost every night looking for his people food. He still jumps up if he hears the word ‘bacon’.”

“I brought home some leftovers for you to take to him.”

Dean turned his head and smiled. All of this shit to work through, and Cas thought about Balthazar. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

“So, I know that this should be the awkward moment when neither one of us knows what to say, but I want to hear about your journey. Getting to Kansas, getting clean. If you don’t want to…”

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know. I was sick as fuck. When I left, I hadn’t eaten for days and I was in pain. I didn’t know that you could feel like your hair hurt. I’ve been stabbed, beaten, sliced, but I’ve never felt as bad as I did the day I that decided to go back to Kansas.” he paused and took a deep breath when he felt Cas reach for his hand. “People may say it only takes a few days, it took me a lot longer. I was a pathetic fucking mess when my mom answered the door. I hadn’t even called, I just showed up. She did the ‘mom’ thing. Tried to get me to eat, started a bath for me, but she was too afraid to ask questions. I needed to sleep, but I wouldn’t let her give me anything. I wouldn’t even take a fucking Benadryl to make me tired. I uh, I got through it and I sat her and the old man down and told them why I was there. She cried, even my old man’s eyes got a little watery. It went from me telling them about the pills to just letting loose and telling them everything. I talked for hours. The HIV thing freaked her out because to them it’s still a death sentence. I expected a reaction from my old man when I told them that I’m bisexual and spent a year in a relationship with a man. A perfect man. He didn’t bat an eye. I was a broken and damaged package and they just wanted me to get better. My mom made some calls and had my ass in a dr’s waiting room just a couple of days after I got there. I got back on my meds, got a few vitamin shots and a list of over the counter shit that I should take, and then we went to the therapist and I started my program. I went full disclosure. I’m a former cop and addict who is HIV positive. It went from there. Therapy, group therapy, online shit that they wanted me to do. I did it, all of it. You told me that I needed to want it, and I fucking wanted it. I would think about that guy in the parking lot out there and I knew that I couldn’t be him again. So I’ve spent months sleeping in a twin bed, cleaning up after my dog while the old man bitches about it, and talking to total strangers about shit. Oakland, the warehouse, my diagnosis, your diagnosis, and the pills. Shit, I even talked about hitting rock bottom. How I lost what mattered to me the most because I couldn’t control it.”

“I know how you felt, I know how much you hated the control that they had over you. If I would have known what I read in those notebooks…”

“Those were all my private thoughts. Shit that I figured made sense to me, but wouldn’t make sense to anyone else. I gave them to you because you dealt with the aftermath. You spent over a year dealing with the aftermath and I wanted you to know why.”

“You know, I’m not as perfect as you made me out to be.”

“Maybe not in the eyes of the world,” Dean said quietly. “But that’s how I saw you. When we met, you were an asshole who made me laugh, and I desperately needed that. When I saw the other side, the side that would have done anything for me, that’s when I saw perfection. I finally stopped feeling guilty about the HIV. My therapist asked me one day if I had known, would I have changed anything. Of course I would have. I saw it clearly. I hate that it happened, I hate that you have to live with it, but I didn’t know.”

“I’ve wanted to hear you say that for a long time,” Cas finally tried to smile. “So, the DEA?”

“I’m walking away entirely. Maybe it’s in my blood, but my expectations are too high. I’ll never be the cop or agent that I want to be. I need to be realistic. I learned a lot in my time on patrol, with Organized, and the short time that I was with the DEA. I actually kept Bobby up all night and talked to him about it. There is no shame in leaving it behind me. We talked about maybe private security. Same vein, different set of responsibilities. Yeah, I’ll miss that station, but I can’t do it. I associate it with too much negativity. It took me down a path that I didn’t want to go down. It stays behind me.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“I have to be, Cas. Look at what it did to me. Just because you want something doesn’t mean that you’re cut out for it. This is where we get to me not having anything to offer right now. No job, no place to live other than my parent’s or Bobby’s, so no steady income. But, getting my head on straight took precedence. What about you?”

“Well,” Cas took a deep breath. “No major changes. I talk to a therapist every couple of weeks. She puts things in perspective for me. She is the one who encouraged me to open the ‘Cas’ box. Was I opening pandora’s box, I didn’t know, but I knew that you left those here for a reason and I needed to find that reason. So, why the award? Why did you leave that here?”

“Because you believed that I deserved it when I didn’t. I only accepted it because of you and Bobby. I get if you don’t want it. I can give it to him. I just don’t need it. It doesn’t mean anything to me. None of that shit does. Putting one foot in front of the other is what matters now. Righting my wrongs. I never expected to actually be in your condo with a drink in my hand, but you are at the top of the list. I still love you, Cas. Time, distance, getting clean, if anything it’s made me love you more because now I see what you went through. You said something about me dropping off those boxes while you were trying to come up with the words you needed to say to me, it had to happen that way. I hated being away from you, but for once I had to stop feeling sorry for myself and take responsibility for my actions.”

“Did you really do it all for yourself, Dean? Or did you do it because you hoped that someday you’d be here?”

“Honestly,” Dean sighed, finishing his drink. “Both.”

“I don’t even know how to feel. I really don’t. I’ve thought about this moment. If you poured a third drink would I put you in a cab or hand you a blanket so that you can sleep on the couch…”

“None of this, absolutely none of this has anything to do with sex.”

“I know that. But we’re sharing time and space. That’s all you wanted from me.”

“That’s still all I want from you.”

Cas leaned over and pressed his lips to Dean’s softly, slowly pushing him back on the couch, waiting for him to set his drink down.

“Cas…”

Cas parted his lips and let their tongues slide together, settling between Dean’s legs, feeling the need and longing when Dean pressed his hand to the back of Cas’s head. Dean thought back to how things had been, and felt the sting of tears when he slid his hands down Cas’s back and squeezed his ass. He arched and moaned when he felt his shirt being pushed up, Cas’s lips and tongue moving across his chest. He groaned when Cas pulled a sensitive nipple between his teeth and gently sucked. He was lost, the soft hands, the hot mouth, the scent of Cas’s skin. The memories had kept him up at night. He pulled his shirt over his head and reached for the hem of Cas’s, dropping them both on the floor. It quickly became heated, their hands reaching for the other’s belt buckle, their jeans and boxers in a pile next to the couch. Cas rocked his hips and moaned. He’d missed this. Dean’s hands were everywhere at once. Touching him where he needed to be touched, his lips softly kissing and sucking where he needed to feel them. The velvet skin covered in a fine sheet of sweat sliding across his hard cock was something that Cas needed. He needed the man who had written those beautiful words to writhe beneath him, to gasp at the touch of his fingers. They came quickly and Cas let his body sink against Dean’s, the tears sliding out of the corners of his eyes when he felt the strong arms wrap around him. “This isn’t why I came here,” Dean whispered. “It’s not why I invited you here,” Cas murmured. “I can’t let anybody else touch me. I can’t share a bed with anybody else. I told you that I can’t forgive you. I can’t forgive the guy who stood in the parking lot and told me things that made me feel like I couldn’t breathe. But this, it’s different. I wanted you before, I desperately wanted you. I didn’t think that I could ever need somebody more, until tonight.”

“I did so many things wrong, Cas. I knew it at the time. I can list them all, we’d be up all night but I’ll do it. Or I can just give you a blanket apology. Every time that you felt pain, every time that you felt fear, every time that I couldn’t give you what you needed, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not going to preemptively not accept this time. You need to hear me say it, don’t you?”

“I do,” Dean whispered. “But it has to be real.”

“I accept your apology, Dean. I mean that. All of the bullshit, it’s still there, but maybe I can put it behind me.”

“Meaning?”

“Introduce me to this guy. I’d like to get to know him. He reminds me of someone I love deeply.”

\-------------------------

They showered and crawled into bed. Cas needed to be at the restaurant in time for brunch, but they had all night. They touched and kissed. They talked and cried. They held each other and felt like they could live again.


End file.
